


NGRESS 


LIBRARY OF 


00017 H 07 aTB 



^ ^ ^ V <e 5^ * 

• ^ A V ^ j 




* -A o 

' aV-V » 

,* V ^ ■“. 

o *vt:t' a 

^ ^«////^ , « 


-o,.- 0 ^ 

/>v O w 



*■ o 



•*bv^ ' 




^ ^ it M O 


Z %<>‘’- = 


- Vv 


o *vV.'i‘ A ■<y. 


r ♦ 

' . • * * 




^ V • 0 


«• \y^ < 

• o V 


0 


. - ^ * o , o ’ 

5 »’VL% > 


'* " 

^ t * o ^ ^0^ * ’ * * ' " 


O ^ ^ 

/ ^y 


• 4O 

: • 


T «• CJV ♦ ^ 

O V ® 


^ * y, V • 

4 -CL’^ * 


0 'O 


* <V ^o.A 

: «»bv^ ; 


o fl5 


^ y « 




c» -- 


V 'i* " 

♦ -f(\ R0 A ** * 

Z V 

.v^. 


* A.^ cv 





: : 


V ’ * ®- 



.r -0 

V 9^ • I'' f ® 

O 


»* ’ * ^ ' L ^ nL'-v V ^ 

<V '°'‘‘ aC ’ . 






'^’•N cv • • 

e 



<• 


' < L ^ 

^ * V • 

'<>•.* , 0 ^ ♦. 

C ® °o 

0 ^ • 






r cv .0 % o^ *- 

9 p " ' ' ^^° ^ » » 0 < 5 >^ 9 ^ 

!.^ ♦ A ^ ♦ f ( C\«R /)>, 



r *5 ^r, 

,G^ 'V ♦/^vT* A 

V « . . <*- A> 





CARMENCITA 


THE PEARL OF SEVILLE 


BY 



PROFESSOR JAMES RAMIREZ 


-'*■ cOPYRfGH/- / 

MAY 26 1B90 ; 


New York: 

Press of The Law and Trade Printing Co., 
220 and 222 William Street. 



Copyright. 

(All rights reserved.) 


O child of Genius, with thy wondrous power 
To sway men’s hearts as wind-blown flower. 

Who can portray, or what expressions tell 
The witcheries that in thy lithe form dwell? 

—Fanny May Ramirez. 


How I love, my languid girl, 

Your voluptuous motion ; 

Flashing as a s^ar might swirl 
’Cross the starry ocean. 

There is music’s sweetest rhyme 
In your swaying roll. 

Like a serpent keeping time 
On a balanced pole. 

When your head bows ’neath the burden 
Of its sweet idlesse., 

Every motion seems a guerdon 
Of a soft caress. 

And your body sways and fails 
As a vessel might. 

When its full-blown snowy sails 
Touch the breakers white. 

— Baudelaire. 


When you dance, I would you were a wave of the sea, 
That yon might dance forever. 


— Shakespeare. 





CONTENTS. 


I. ('armencita . _ - . - <7 

IT. The Dance - , - - - 15 

III. At Home - - • - - 25 

IV. The Haunted Chatp:au - - 39 

V. The Abduction - - - - 50 

VI. Foiled 63 

VII. The Duel 66 

VIII. In America . _ . - -75 

V 

IX. The Suicide of Armand - - 80 

X. Carmencita's Dream. - - 95. 


Life of Carmencita iii ' 



CARMENCITA 


THE PEARL OF SEVILLE. 


CHAPTER I. 

CARMENCITA. 

f 

Have you seen Carmencita? ” 

The speaker was the Marquis de Lou- 
bens, and the person he addressed was 
his most intimate friend, the Viscount 
Armand de Sallauness, who had but a 
week before returned from abroad and 
whose statuesque proportions of form and 
fair, handsome, patrician face were the 
admiration of all the fair sex of Paris. 

“ No; I have not yet had that doubtful 


8 


Carmcncita. 


pleasure/' replied Armand, while he toyed 
with the tassels of his smoking gown and 
puffed at his fragrant Havana. 

‘^Ye gods! hear the man talk/' ejacu- 
lated the Marquis, lifting his eyes heaven- 
ward. He has been in Paris a whole 
week and has not seen the charming, the 
fascinating Carmencita who is the craze 
of Paris. And, Oh ! ye gods ! how in 
ffancy I can see you laughing when you 
hear him call it a doubtful pleasure to see 
her.” 

And pray, what may this divine crea- 
ture be like ?” inquired Armand banter- 
ingly, with a half indolent, half sarcastic 
smile flitting across his lips, ‘Hhat she 
makes even the blase Marquis de Lou- 
bens grow enthusiastic, when I have often 
heard him declare that no woman now 
possessed the power to charm him ?’’ 

Ah 1 ” returned the Marquis with the 
most expressive of glances and gestures. 


Carmencita. 


9 


but, when I said that, I had not yet seen 
Carmencita.” 

You ask me what she is like ? he con- 
tinued after a brief silence, while he 
dreamily watched the perfumed rings of 
smoke that floated from his cigar grow 
thin and vanish in the air, “ Blame me 
not if words fail me when I attempt to an- 
swer you.” . 

‘‘She is,” he continued, “the most 
lovely and graceful woman, I think, that 
God has ever created, for she has a face 
whose complexion seems made out of 
magnolia and rose leaves ; her eyes are 
dark as midnight with the most brilliant 
of starry gleams shooting through them, 
or as one of her numerous admirers has 
more originally decribed them, ‘like deep, 
dark pools whose flashing ripples when 
put in motion make the head swim ’ ; her 
forehead is low like the antique foreheads, 
but full and perfect in form and united 


10 


Carmeyicita, 


with a nose as finely chiseled as a cameo, 
and her lips are like pouting rosebuds 
and full of unbridled voluptuousness that 
discloses, when she smiles, two rows of 
the most even and pearly teeth, while her 
luxuriant hair that frames all is as black 
as the raven's wing.’' 

“And in addition to all these charms,'’ 
he went on, “she has a form — but there. 
I'm done for. My rhetoric fails me, for 
no words of mine can describe the grace 
and witcheries of that, and I can only say 
what I have heard artists and sculptors 
declare, that she looks when she glides 
upon the stage like some goddess who has 
come down from her pedestal, and ex- 
presses in her every movement the incar- 
nation of the poetry of motion, the 
rhythm of music, and the beauty of plas- 
tic and painted art." 

“ I will confess, Marquis," said Armand, 
now thoroughly interested, “ that you 


Car me licit a. 


II 


have excited my curiosity to see this divin- 
ity who makes men’s hearts mad with 
love and has evidently numbered you 
among her victims, and if you have no 
other engagement, I will accompany you 

to-night to the Theatre where she 

is at present appearing.” 

^‘You will never regret it, old boy,’’ 
enthusiastically and smilingly declared 
the Marquis, for it will mark a most 
eventful epoch in the history of your life- 
time, for to quote at random what the 
press says of her ; ^ no dancer like her has 
ever been seen on any stage, for her danc- 
ing is so original and individual that she 
consigns even Taglioni to the shades of 
oblivion. Her performance is made up of 
every quality the human body is capable 
of expressing, and only a Theophile 
Gautier might paint a picture of the mad- 
dening fire and fury, the voluptuousness 
and grace, and audacity of her dance.”’ 


12 


Carmencita, 


Indeed, he might well write of it as he 
did the dancing of Cleopatra when she 
danced before one of her lovers who died 
of love for her — heart consuming love. 
Sensual pleasure, burning passion, youth 
inexhaustible and ever fresh — the promise 
of bliss to come — she expresses all.” 
^‘And with all, I can assure you, t\x~ 
mand, that there is nothing of the cheap 
flashing inartistic motions indulged in by 
her as of ordinary, ballet dancers, and she 
must be seen to be appreciated, for she 
goes far beyond the most extravagant 
ideas which may be formed in advance of 
her terpsichorean achievements.” 

The saints be praised then,” devoutly 
exclaimed Armand, when at last the Mar- 
quis concluded his enthusiastic descrip- 
tion, panting for breath, ‘‘that I am going 
to see her.’’ 

“ But, ’pon my soul. Marquis,” he added 
laughingly, “ I must say that your elo- 


Carinencita, 


13 


quence has completely overwhelmed me, 
for I have never given you credit before 
for possessing such a Cicero-like gift, 
and — ” 

But, be warned in time, Armand,’’ in- 
terrupted the Marquis, who had recovered 
his breath again, ^‘for Carmencita, although 
enjoying flattery, as is as natural for 
a lovely woman to do as for the flowers to 
enjoy the dew and sunlight, is not like 
other footlight favorites who have danced 
their way into hearts before her, for she is 
impervious to its honeyed tongue, and 
none of the pretty baubles which the young 
swells and biases bald-headed roues nightly 
shower upon her has proved to win from 
her in exchange her virtue, that priceless 
jewel of womanhood.” 

^‘And,’’ he continued, ^^as far as the 
grand and mighty passion the world calls 
love is concerned, she lias but the sleep- 
ing heart and soul of a little child, and 


14 


Carmencita, 


the only master to which she owes alle- 
giance is her art. That she considers 
to be ennobling and inspiring, while she 
simply longs, when her task of winning 
fresh plaudits and laurels is over, to return 
to her own native country, and there be- 
neath its sunny skies and amid its stately 
palaces and sparkling fountains, accom- 
panied by the dreamy music of the man- 
dolin and guitar, and clicking of castanets, 
dance solely for her own amusement and 
that of her family and most intimate 
friends.’’ 




t 


CHAPTER II. 

% 

THE DANCE. 

Frail as fair,” was the verdict that Ar- 
mand’s hitherto easy conquests had made 
him pass upon the opposite sex, and it was 
a new experience for him to hear of a poor 
and beautiful danseuse whose character, 
like that of Caesar’s wife, was above re- 
proach. 

And he was secretly piqued after hear- 
ing the story of Carmencita’s unapproach- 
able purity, and mentally determined that 
he, if no other had, would storm the 
hitherto impenetrable fortress, and make 
her cold heart thrill and melt before the 
warmth and power of his love. 


i6 


The Dance, 


He made a most elaborate toilet for the 
theatre that evening, and, with his heart 
wildly beating with curiosity and excite- 
ment, went forth with the determination 
to conquer or die in the attempt. 

When the hour for the performance 
had arrived and the Marquis and Armand 
had taken the seats assigned them, after 
consulting his programme and glancing 
about him, Armand turned to his friend 
and said : 

The house is well crowded to-night.’’ 
It is no marvel,’’ answered the Mar- 
quis, ‘‘ when Carmencita is on the bill, for 
such talents and beauty, and above all, 
such magnetism as she possesses cannot 
fail to draw.’ 

When at last the curtain was rung up 
and the orchestra burst into the opening 
crash of music, Armand could scarcely 
control his impatience while waiting until 
the other performers, who were on the bill 


The Dance, 


17 


before her, had performed their parts and 
Carmencita would appear. 

But all time has an end, and at last it 
came — the moment for which he had so 
eagerly waited. The band suddenly broke 
into a quick Spanish movement that 
seemed frau ght with passion and sunshine 
and a shower of bouquets fell upon the 
stage, while there came a burst of such 
loud applause from the crowded audience 
that the theatre rocked and trembled 
as if in the throes of an earthquake. 

A lithe, agile figure had glided upon the 
stage, clad in a gorgeous costume of pink 
silk and black lace that was embroidered 
with gold and decorated with coins, and 
the skirt of which was just short enough 
to reveal the exquisitely formed ankles 
and the dainty satin slippers with their 
high heels like miniature stilts. 

It was Carmencita. 

For a moment she ’lingered with her 


i8 


The Dance, 


head poised backward and only her toes 
touching the stage, as some glorious crim- 
son rose does before it gracefully sways 
upon the summer breeze, and then, lifting 
one dainty foot, she began her dance that 
could only be described as a complete set 
of movements made up of crouchings and 
springs, serpentine curves, contortions, 
gyrations, evolutions, convolutions, whirl- 
ings and twirlings, so that the dancer ap- 
peared in the height of its delirium on 
the point of going to pieces. 

The fires of passion within her showed 
through every undulation of her perfect 
body as in her brightly blazing eyes, and 
after each voluptuous and sinuous move- 
ment she turned a dazzling but enigmati- 
% 

cal smile to the audience, that was at once 
apologetic and triumphant, inviting and 
repelling. 

It was such a dance with its audacious 
whirl and swirl, swaying backward and 


71ie Dance. 


^9 


forward and sidewise, such as might have 
been danced by the bacchantes who knew 
how to madden the revellers of old, and 
before it was ended the men were in a 
fever, and the women filled with an 
excitment that made them flush with a 
natural color beneath the rouge on their 
faces. 

Her constant kaleidoscopic changing 
of attitudes showed forth the grace of the 
brilliant quivering of the humming bird, 
the blowing of flowers in the wind, the 
rippling of the waves of the sea, the 
shooting and sparkling of a flame of fire, 
the waving of banners on the breeze, and 
depicted every phase of the poetry of 
motion. 

Just as the audience were wondering 
with dreamy and breathless expectancy 
what new and eccentric innovation she 
would show next, she gave a bewildering 
whirl that revealed a tantalizing glimpse 


^6 


The Dance, 


of the rosy pink of her stockings and the 
snowy lace of her petticoats. There was a 
final crash of music, and she gracefully 
bowed her exit and vanished as suddenly 
as she had come. 

Round after round of thunderous ap- 
plause burst from the delighted audience, 
that would not be stilled until she had 
responded to their encore. 

As she stood before them with her 
beautiful face flushed and her bosom 
heaving with excitement and exertion, 
bowing the thanks she had not the breath 
to utter, and walled in by the floral 
tributes rained upon her, Armand, Vis- 
count de Sallauness, with his handsome 
face alternately flushing and paling and 
his heart thrilling as it had never thrilled 
before, gazed as one spell-bound upon her 
for a time. 

Then half rising in his seat, when the 
throwing of the other floral tributes had 


The Dance. 


21 


ceased, he threw a superb wreath of crim- 
son roses upon the stage. 

Carmencita glanced in the direction 
from whence the wreath came and, seeing 
the handsome smiling face of the giver, 
she smiled in return at him, and after the 
most graceful and bewitching of bows, 
stooped and picked up the wreath from 
where it had fallen at her feet and coquet- 
tishly placing it as a crown . on her 
beautiful hair, began another dance that 
made her seem nothing but a flashing, 
flying, bounding dream, and left one thrill- 
ed and shaken and mystified with the 
power of its effect. 

Almost maddened now with excitement, 
Armand turned to the Marquis and said : 
De Loubens, you know her, you must 
present me at once, to-night.” 

The Marquis shrugged his shoulders 
and with a slow, lazy smile, answered : 

I see you are hard hit, Armand, and 


22 


The Dance, 


I suppose, if I refuse to grant your wish, 
you will find some other way of gratifying 
it. But I suppose the usual denouement 
will follow ; the madness of love while it 
is fresh upon you, then 

‘ A passion grown tired,’ 

and finally desertion of the object that in- 
spired it, while you worship at some new 
shrine.” 

It will not be the case with Carmen- 
cita,’’ ardently returned Armand, for she 
is a woman a man could never tire of, and 
I would be willing, if need be, to make her 
my countess.” 

^‘My! you really are far gone this time, 
Armand,” laughingly declared the Mar- 
quis after giving his forehead a significant 
tap with his finger. 

When at last the performance was 
ended, Armand at once made his way 
toward the green room accompanied by 


The Dance, 


23 

the Marquis, who at once presented him 
to Carmencita. 

She had removed her gorgeous dancing 
costume and was now attired in a plain 
and sober nun -like dress of deepest black 
that threw into lustrous relief the ivory- 
like whiteness of her skin. 

Armand possessed all that graceful and 
courtly gallantry of demeanor which goes 
so far to win a woman’s heart, and as Car- 
mencita acknowledged the introduction 
to him and felt the burning gaze that he 
fixed upon her face, while he bowed low 
over her little white hand, and listened 
while he conversed with her in the rich 
musical voice that was one of his greatest 
charms, it was no marvel that her eyes 
brightened, the most dazzling of smiles 
played about her lips, and the rose flush 
deepened in her face. 

Noting this, the heart of Armand thrilled 


24 


The Dance, 


with triumph, but he carefully concealed 
his feelings. 

Knowing that she could not be won by 
jewels and other glittering inducements 
dear to most women’s hearts, he adopted 
a new role in the winning of her. 

He treated her with the utmost re- 
spect, and the flattering speeches that he 
gallantly whispered to her were as delicate 
as any he would have offered to a queen. 


CHAPTER III. 


AT HOME. 

From that time Carmencita possessed 
no more devoted admirer than Arrnand, 
Viscount de Sallauness. 

As soon as he reached his own exqui- 
sitely furnished bachelor apartments 
with his excitement still strong upon 
him, he opened the richly leather- 
bound and gilt-edged diary in which it 
was his daily custom to chronicle the 
most important events of his daily life and 
wrote ; 

To-night has indeed been one of .the 
most eventful epochs in the history of my 
lifetime, as the Marquis declared to me 


26 


At Home, 


this afternoon it would be, fori have seen 
Carmencita — the one woman in the world 
whom I could truly love and am willing, 
if need be, to make my Countess/’ 

And after he retired, all night her lovely 
face and form floated before him in his 
dreams, alternately whirling before him in 
the dizzy mazes of her dances, and rest- 
ing in his arms, while he gratified his 
secret longing by pressing the most pas- 
sionate of kisses upon her. 

When the morning dawned he rose 
much earlier than was his wont, and, after 

his valet de chambre had assisted him in 

• 

making his toilet, he sallied forth to the 
nearest florist’s and purchased a costly 
basket that he had filled with rare orchids 
and fringed with maiden hair ferns. 

This he directed to be sent to Carmen- 
cita, after attaching to it a card bearing 
his name and compliments. 

When this was done, his next act was to 


At Home, 


27 


go to the theatre where she was engaged, 
and purchase seats for himself and the 
Marquis in advance up to the time when 
her engagement would end there. 

Then he returned to his apartments 
again, and with feverish impatience 
watched the hands of the ormolu time- 
piece in the velvet-draped mantel that 
seemed hours in moving only seconds, 
until the hour came when the Marquis 
had promised to accompany him fora call 
on Carmencita. 

The Marquis came promptly at the 
hour appointed, and soon Armand had the 
happiness of again being in the presence 
of her who had cast such a spell about 
him with her wondrous grace and loveli- 
ness, and feeling the warm, clinging touch 
of her hand, listening to the sweet tones 
of her musical voice, and watching the 
ever-varying beauties of her face, and her 
graceful movements that were more tire- 


28 


At Home, 


less and capricious than those of the pil- 
fering bee. 

She was attired in a dress of crimson, 
trimmed with golden fringe, that was most 
becoming to her dark beauty, and after 
greeting the Marquis and Armand with a 
most ravishing smile, she seated herself in 
an attitude of the most graceful aban- 
don on a low divan near the latter, making 
him feel as if he had suddenly been trans- 
ported to Paradise. 

It had often been said of Armand that 
he ought to go about the world labelled 
dangerous^ so far as the opposite sex was 
concerned^ as he had about him an all- 
compelling persuasiveness that few women 
could or cared to resist; in addition, he pos- 
sessed a gift of eloquence that, aided by 
the rich, musical tones of his voice, com- 
pletely enthralled the hearts and senses of 
his hearers, hypnotising them, as it were. 

But now, for the first time, his ever-ready 


At Home. 


29 


eloquence had suddenly deserted him and 
he was strangely silent before this queenly 
star of the footlights, whose presence rose 
to his brain like the fumes of strong alcohol. 

I bless the lucky star that made me 
learn to speak Spanish,” he at last found 
courage to say, after he had replied in 
. monosyllables to the remarks she had 
addressed to him about the weather, and 
told him how much she had admired the 
beautiful orchids that he had that morn- 
ing sent to her. 

For,” he added with a most expressive 
glance, I would not have liked to be 
under the disagreeable necessity of speak- 
ing to you through an interpreter, as so 
many of }^our admirers are.” 

Just then a ring which she had been 
slipping off and on her finger suddenly 
rolled upon the floor, and Armand grace- 
fully went down on his hands and knees 
and commenced a search for it. 


30 


At Ho7ue. 


After restoring the ring to her and be- 
fore he rose, he imprinted a quick, burning 
kiss on her exquisitely curved instep. 

“ Don’t be so foolish,” she said with 
an imperious tone in her voice, while she 
stamped her tiny slippered foot, and with 
a crest-fallen look on his face that was as 
flushed as if he had been drinking of some 
strong wine, Armand rose from his knees 
and again resumed his seat. 

At that moment some of her Spanish 
friends were announced, who had brou ght 
with them two boxes of grapes, black 
Hambras and sea-green Muscats, that 
were Carmencita’s favorite fruit. 

Quickly leaving Armand’s side, she 
made her way to the table and began 
arranging them in the fruit dish in fan- 
tastic pyramids to suit her fancy. 

Then, while one of the Spaniards 
played the sprightly air of the fandango 
on the guitar, she began to dance to its 


At Home, 


31 


music, and in a burst of childish gayety 
to romp about the room throwing first a 
bunch of black and then a bunch of green 
grapes over her shoulder, as an omen of 
good luck ’ she declared, until there 
seemed to be no limit to her noisy and 
frolicksome gladness. 

At last, tired with her exertion she 
seated herself on the divan at Armand’s 
side again, and as he watched her with all 
his intense soul looking out of the deep 
blue gray depths of his eyes and took in 
every detail of her rare loveliness and 
graces, he noted that even her panting 
revealed a new poetry of motion. 

Taking up a superb fan lying near her, 
she coquetted with it as only a Spanish 
girl can do, while she answered the many 
questions put to her. 

Senorita Carmencita, ” said the Mar- 
quis de Louberws, suddenly turning to her 
with a courtly bow, “ I wish you would 


At Home, 


32 

graciously oblige me by relating for my 
friend Armand’s benefit here, the amus- 
ing story I have heard you tell of how 
you were taken prisoner by the Bandit 
Chief in Spain when a little girl, while on 
your way to give the money for masses 
for the repose of the soul of your uncle’s 
mother-in-law, to the fathers in the 
church.” 

Carmencita smiled a rare smile that 

brought into bewildering play all her 

♦ 

dimples, and then began : 

It was while I was living with my un- 
cle and aunt on a little farm near Madrid, 
and although I was very young, I was 
big enough to be trusted with money. So 
my aunt sent me one day with a purse 
filled with gold for masse.s to the priests 
of the Church of the Escurial, which is 
over the vaults where the dead Kings 
and Queens of Spain are l^dng. ” 

It also contains 7,400 relics, including 


At Home, 


33 


the bodies of 7008 saints, twelve dozen 
whole heads, and three dozen legs and 
arms. It also had, until it was stolen, the 
monster gridiron upon which'St. Lawrence 
was roasted, and one of his feet with a 
piece of coal sticking between the toes. 
He was the saint, you remember, who 
bore his martyrdom with such courage 
that he said to his executioners, ‘‘ I am 
done on this side; perhaps you had better 
turn me over whence jomes the Spanish 
proverb, cooked to a turn.” 

“ I was driving a donkey laden with 
onions and eggs to be also given to the 
priests for food, and although I was com- 
pelled to pass through a part of the coun- 
try infested with brigands, I had no fear, 
but went along merrily, for I thought 
they did not annoy any except rich trav- 
elers.” 

‘‘ But, suddenly, I found myself sur- 
rounded by fierce looking men and my 


At Home. 


donkey was taken from me, while I was 
escorted to the presence of the bandit 
chief, a tall, handsome man in the hid- 
den cave near by that was his home.” 

“ He asked me my name and I tremb- 
lingly answered ‘ Carmen,’ and after he 
had heard it he smiled and said, ^ Well, 
Carmencita, don’t be frightened and per- 
haps I will let you go home soon,’ and 
that was the first time I was ever called 
Carmencita, which means little Carmen, 
and I have liked and kept the name ever 
since.” 

Then he asked me for the money for 
the masses I had hidden in my bodice, 
and when I asked him how he knew I 
had it, he only laughed and bade one of 
his women take it from me.” 

I told him not to take it or the ven- 
geance of the saints would be upon him, 
as it was for holy uses, but although he 
la ughed again, and gave me a cup of 


At Home, 


35 


wine, bidding me keep still, I saw that my 
pleadings were having some effect upon 
him and other members of the band, for 
the Spaniards from the highest to the 
lowest are a truly religious people.” 

Meanwhile the band was busily en- 
gaged in eating the fresh eggs that had 
been converted into omelettes, and the 
crisp onions that my aunt had given me 
for the use of the fathers, and as I 
watched them I hoped they would choke 
them.” 

After they had eaten them all, one of 
their number began playing a mandolin 
and naturally I began tapping the ground 
and nodding in time with the music.” 

The chief noticed this, and exclaimed, 

s 

^ Ah, Carmencita, I see you dance,’ and 
then he bade me rise and show them what 
I could do.’' 

I prayed to the saints silently for help 
and I believe that they inspired me, for 


36 At Home, 

I danced so that I soon had all the bandits 
in ecstacy, while they loudly applauded 
me and called out, ^ Bravisima,’ ” After 
dancing for nearly an hour I was ready to 
give up with exhaustion when the hand- 
some robber chief kindly bade me to 
stop, and after giving me back my mass 
money, and taking up a collection for me 
from his men besides for my dancing, he 
sent for my donkey and escorted me to a 
safe road, and, before parting from me, 
gave me a curiously bent piece of iron 
that he told me would preserve me from 
all harm in any part of Spain where his 
fellow craftsmen were, and I have the 
piece of iron yet and treasure it as a 
mascotd’ ' 

After thanking her for the story, the 
Marquis and Armand rose to take their 
departure and although Armand could 
scarcely bear to tear himself away, he con- 
doled himself with the thought that he 


At Home. 


1^7 


would see her again at the theatre that 
evening. 

After murmuring his adieus to her, he 

» 

passionately quoted : 

Life in thy presence were a thing to keep, 

A dream through which one would forever sleep. 

She smiled one of her slow, wreathing 
smiles, and while she flashed the light of 
her golden . eyes full into his passion- 
flushed face, said, “ adios, mal viuchaco^' 
(adieu, bad boy), in her pretty Spanish 
way, and so he passed out of her raptur- 
ous presence. 

When he found himself outside, Ar- 
mand turned to the Marquis and said : 
What a wonderful girl or woman she is ! 
for 

Her beauty is a witch against whose charms 
Ice turneth into fire. 

Yes, indeed, she is a wonderful wo- 
man,” laughingly answered the Marquis, 
and before you spoke^ I was thinking 


38 


At Home. 


that she might breathe the breath of life 
into even a man of marble and make him 
share in her superabundant passion, and 
that, 

‘ When around her black eyes throw 
Loving looks from ’neath their lashes, 

The veriest saint e’er lived below 
To touch her garment’s hem, I trow 
Would give his relics and his ashes.’ ” 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE HAUNTED CHATEAU. 

/ 

There was another aevoted admirer that 
Carmencita possessed, and that was the 
Italian Count Marco Durazzi, who, after 
beholding her when she first appeared on 
the stage in the Cervantes Theatre in 
Spain, had ever lingered as near her as it 
was possible for him to do, and at last 
followed her when she left Spain for 
Paris. 

Unlike Armand, the passion he had 
conceived for her was not mixed with any 
motives to win her in an honorable way 
if others failed, for “ although she was as 
beautiful as a dream,” he told himself,“ and 


40 The Haunted Chateau. 

she thrilled’ his heart as no other woman 
had done before her/' she was but a poor 
danseuse, and he, the Count Durazzi, 
must wed a wealthy wife who could help 
him to maintain his title in proper style 
and improve his estates that were sadly 
in need of repairs. 

Like most men of his class he clung to 
the belief that any woman who danced 
before the footlights could be won in time 
by devotion and flattery aided with pres- 
ents of costly jewels, and promises of a 
home of luxury where she would live as 
a very queen. 

So he constantly followed Carmencita 
and besieged her with all his attentions, 
and whispered the most flattering of 
speeches in her ear, while scarce a day 
passed that he did not present her with 
some beautiful jewels or other costly 
trifles dear to the feminine heart. 

As for Carmencita, every time she 


The Haunted Chateati, 


41 


looked into his dark handsome face whose 
only repulsive feature was the malignant 
light he could not repress that ever 
and anon flamed from his dark eyes, a 
feeling of aversion for him stole over her 
that she could not conquer, and, when he 
would kiss her little white hand, she 
would shudder as if a serpent had crawled 
its slimy way across it. 

She could not tell why it was so for he 
was handsome and so devoted and gen- 
erous to her, but still the aversion was 
there as has been so quaintly described in 
the words : 


“ I do not like thee, Doctor Fell. 
The reason why I cannot tell.” 


And after awhile she gave him plainly 
to understand, as a woman can, that his 
attentions wer.e not agreeable to her, and 
refused to accept any more of his gifts. 

Her coldness, instead of quenching it, 
only seemed to inflame his mad passion 


42 


The Haunted Chateau, 


for her, and he determined to conquer her 
and have the triumph of winning her in 
spite of all obstacles. 

hor he possessed one of those fiery im- 
petuous, but still patient natures, that stub- 
bornly refuses to be discouraged, and 
would do and dare anything in order to 
attain a desired object. 

And now, after following her to Paris, 
where she had at once become the craze 
of the Boulevards, and was surrounded 
by so many admirers, he scarcely had an 
o{)portunity to speak to her. When he 
did, she treated him with increased indif- 
ference and coldness, and refused to accept 
even a gift of the smallest value from him. 
He grew mad with the repressed longings 
within him, so that he determined on a 
bold coup de main to win her. 

Pie resolved that 

“ All's fair in love and war/' 

and that, as he had not been able to win 


The Haunted Chateau^ 43 

her in a fair way, he would have to em- 
ploy foul means to do so. 

And this resolve of his took the form of 
a plan to abduct her and force her to 
yield to his wishes. 

His next act, after making this deter- 
mination, was to find a place to take her 
to from which it would be impossible for 
her to escape, until he was ready to have 
her do so. 

Some three or four miles drive from 
Paris was an old and ruined chateau that 
was situated in the midst of a dense wood, 
and that was shunned by every one near 
and far because of the strange stories told 
of it by those who had passed it late at 
night, of piercing shrieks that issued from 
it and ghostly faces and sulphurous lights 
seen at its windows. 

For many years its only living occu- 
pants had been the 

“ Spiders and rats, 

Owls and bats,” 


44 


The Haunted Chateau, 


who had made it their abode, until one 
day it was at last hired from the agent who 
had charge of it, by the old Italian, Beppo 
Galletto, and his wife, Angela. 

After that the old chateau was shunned 
more than ever, for people who had been 
afraid to pass it only at night, now avoided 
it even in the broad light of day, as mar- 
vellous stories were told of Angela’s super- 
natural powers of witchcraft, and of herhus- 
band’s laboratory where were compounded 
the subtle and deadly poisons, the receipts 
of which had been confided to one of his 
ancestors by the Borgias. 

And added to these terrors that the old 
chateau now possessed for the people, 
of being haunted, and the abode of those 
of whom it was whispered they had 

“ Sold their souls to Satan,!’ 


there was in league with them a large 
bloodhound, made fiercer by being 


The Haunted Chateau. 45 

kept half-starved, which roamed about 
it. 

And it was in this much dreaded place 
that Count Marco had cruelly decided to 
imprison the beautiful Carmencita. 

The day after he had made this decision 
he made his way toward the chateau, after 
providing himself first with a quantity of 
fresh meat to win the good-will of the blood- 
hound, and arming himself with a pistol, 
in case' his overtures to the beast failed 
to have the desired effect. 

When at last he reached the chateau, 
(the evil one, as it seems, always helps his 
own, as he is declared to do), the Count, 
most fortunately for him, encountered 
old Beppo at the gate, whom he at once 
addressed in Italian. 

Seeing in’ the Count a fellow country- 

y 

man, the old man at once invited him to 
enter and go with him to the chateau, 
first bidding the bloodhound, now sav- 


4^ The Haunted Chateau, 

agely leaping about, to lie down, and 
which was satisfied to do so after the 
meat had been thrown it. 

When they reached the chateau, old An- 
gela, after receiving a sign from her hus- 
band, . dropped a courtesy to the Count, 
and with a smile that she meant to be 
winning, but which only rendered her 
hideous face more repulsive, invited him 
to be seated. 

As he found himself shut in alone from 
the outer world with this mysterious and 
uncanny looking couple, the Count, whose 
boast had always been that his nerves were 
as strong as if made from steel, and that 
he feared neither God, man, nor the devil, 
could not repress a momentary secret 
shuddering and feeling of terror. 

For old Beppo had the appearance of 
one who has been for some days dead 
with his pallid, half-livid complexion and 
dark eyes set so deep in his head they had 


The Ilminicd Chateau, 


47 


the look at a distance of empty sockets. 
He wore a sort of dressing gown over 
which were woven strange hieroglyphics, 
scorpions, snakes and grinning skulls, 
while Angela, who was just the opposite 
of being the angelic being that her name 
signified, was clad in a loose-fitting robe 
made of the same material, and as she bent 
her repulsive and wrinkled face, with its 
eyes as black as coals lit by lurid lights as 
of flames of fire, and skin as yellow as the 
immense hoops of gold swinging from her 
ears, over the great open fire-place, while 
she stirred the broth that was cooking 
there, she reminded the Count of the evil 
witches in Lady Macbeth watching the 
brewing of their cauldrons. 

The Count at once made known to 
Beppo the object of his visit, and, as he 
concluded, drew forth from his pocket 
a well-filled purse of shining gold coins 
and extended it to the old Italian, stating 


48 


The Haunted Chateau, 


that it was but a first payment, if he 
would aid him in his plan for abducting 
Carmencita and keeping her a prisoner in 
the chateau. 

With his ghastly looking eyes bright- 
ened with the avaricious light that had 
leaped into them at sight of the gold, 
Beppo assured the Count that he was 
henceforth his most willing slave, and 
that with him and Angela, his wife, as 
her keepers, Carmencita’s escape would be 
impossible, if she could be safely conveyed 
to the chateau. 

“ I have arranged for that, Signor Bab 
letto,’’ said the Count with an evil smile, 
and then, while the smile deepened on his 
lips, he confided to the old man how he 
had bribed Carmencita’s coachman, and 
that he, the Count, intended to be se- 
creted in her cab when it was time for her 
to leave the theatre for her home, and 
that if no one else accompanied her, as 


The Haunted Chateaii, 


49 


soon as he found himself alone in it with 
her to still any screams or struggles she 
would give at sight of him by quickly ap- 
plying to her nostrils a handkerchief he 
would bring with him saturated with 
chloroform. 

“ Your plan is a very good one, Count,” 
said Beppo, and you are just the man 
carry it out, and any time you bring 
the fair Carmencita here, you will find me 
ready to receive her.’’ 

Then the Count took his leave, after 
promising that he would bring his pris- 
oner to the chateau on the following 
evening, if possible. 


CHAPTER V. 


THE ABDUCTION. 

It was the evening following Count 
Marco’s visit to the old chateau, and Car-^ 
mencita, after dancing as usual to a 
crowded and appreciative audience, 
wearied with exertion and excitement at 
last, left the theatre for her home. 

There was no moon out, and the curb- 
stone, before which her cab was drawn 
up, was shrouded in darkness, and, as she 
stepped gracefully into it, after waving 
her adieus to the crowd of friends and 
admirers who were gathered outside of 
the theatre to watch her take her depart- 
ure, she did not see the figure muffled in 


The Abduction, 


51 


deepest black that was crouched in the 
corner of the furthest side. 

As soon as the coachman had turned 
the corner, he whipped up his horses which 
started on a mad race, and then Carmen- 
cita became aware of the figure secreted in 
the cab for she felt herself suddenly seized 
in a pair of strong arms, while, before she 
could utter a single cry, she felt a hand- 
kerchief saturated with chloroform pressed 
to her nostrils and inhaled its pungent 
odor. 

She struggled violently for a moment, 
but as the chloroform finished its work, 
her struggles ceased and she lay back 
limp and unconscious in the Count’s 
arms. 

When the Count reached the chateau, 
he found old Beppo and Angela awaiting 
his coming, and with their assistance his 
beautiful and unconscious burden was 
borne up to the room where she was to be 




The Abduction, 


kept a prisoner at the Count’s pleasure 
until he would see fit to release her. 

The following morning when Carmen- 
cita slowly opened her eyes, after the 
effects of the chloroform administered 
passed away, and they took in the unfa- 
miliar aspect of her surroundings, there 
flashed into her remembrance what had 
happened the previous night, how she 
had been overpowered and rendered un- 
conscious after entering her cab. 

‘‘Dios mio’- (my God), she cried out, 
where am I ! ’’ and as she spoke, althou 
she felt so weak she could scarcely stand, 
she leaped from her bed and looked 
wildly about her. 

The room that she found herself in 
contained evidences of its former gran- 
deur, for the tapestries that adorned the 
‘walls, although moth-eaten and covered 
with dust, were of the most beautiful 
pattern, and the pictures had been exe- 


The Abduction, 


S3 


Cuted by master hands, while over the 
once highly polished floor was scattered 
rugs softer and deeper than velvet ; the 
furniture was most elaborately carved and 
the toilet paraphernalia on the dressing- 
table were of such a costly description 
that a queen might have been pleased to 
use them. 

Carmencita at once flew to the door 
and tried it, only to find her fears were 
realized, for it was locked upon the outer 
side, and it was framed of such stout wood 
that no man’s strength alone could have 
beaten it down. 

I must escape,’’ she murmured with 
passionate vehemence, “ surely there must 
be some way out of this horrible prison.” 

She made her way to the windows 
only to find, when she had drawn the 
curtains aside, that they were barred with 
great, heavy, iron bars, and as she com- 
menced to shake them to see if any were 


54 


The Abduction. 

loose, a blood-curdling sound arose be- 
neath the window. 

It was the baying of the bloodhound 
which had been fastened there, and as Car- 
mencita looked shudderingly down, she 
beheld it gazing upon her with a fierce 
glare in its eyes and its deep, red mouth 
that disclosed its keen, white fangs, open- 
ed to its fullest extent. 

With her heart sinking like lead in her 
bosom, with the feeling of utter despair 
that swept over her, poor Carmencita 
began to pace to and fro through the 
room, wondering what awful fate was in 
store for her. 

The entrance of old Angela with the 
tray containing her breakfast at last inter- 
rupted her bitter and despairing reverie. 

As Carmencita caught sight of the old 
woman, whose repulsive and witch-like 
appearance would have’ struck terror to 
hearts more brave than hers, she sank 


The Abduction. 


55 


moaning and half- fainting on her knees 
and cried out piteously in Spanish: 

“Oh, my good woman, tell me, I pray 
you, where I am, and for what purpose I 
have been brought here ? ’’ 

“ You are in the old haunted chateau in 
the midst of the woods, where you arc 
likely to remain until you have granted to 
.your wealthy and generous admirer, the 
Count Marco Durazzi, the love that he has 
so often begged you for,” was old An- 
gela’s harsh reply, as she deposited the 
breakfast tray upon the table. 

As Carmencita listened to the old nag’s 
words that told her she was a prisoner in 
the haunted and much dreaded abode of 
which she had often heard it said that 
people were afraid to pass it even by day- 
light, it was no marvel that a look of 
agonizing terror swept over her fair, 
sweet face, while with the most piteous 
Cric3 that ever came from human lips she 


56 


The Abduction, 


seized old Angela’s dress to detain her, 
and begged her to release her. 

‘‘You are a woman like myself/’ she 
cried. “ Surely you will have pity upon 
me and save me. I will pay you well for 
it, if you do.” 

But she might as well have appealed to 
the blood-hound which was uttering the 
most savage cries beneath the windows- 
ever since he had seen Carmencita’s face 
there. 

“You are not able to pay as much as 
• Count Marco,” replied the old hag with a 
wicked leer, “ so hold your tongue, girl, 
and eat your breakfast and try to be in a 
good humor when the good count will be 
in soon to see you,” and, as she concluded, 
she roughly pushed the terrified Carmen- 
cita from her and went quickly out, clos- 
ing and locking the door after her. 

As Carmencita found herself alone, with 
her mind a prey to the most terrible of 


The Abduction, 57 

fears, she remained kneeling on the floor, 
and with her little white hands clasped in 
supplication, sent up the most pitiful and 
earnest prayers to heaven for deliverance 
from the terrible evil that beset her. 

She arose from her knees at last feel- 
ing stronger, and, leaving the breakfast 
untasted, save for the cup of strong cof- 
fee that she felt the need of as a stimulant, 
■ began to pace through the room again, 
while she devised means of escape and 
hoped that heaven would hear her prayer 
by providentially directing her friends 
who would miss her and institute a search 
for her, to trace her to the haunted 
chateau. 

While she was thus occupied she heard 
the ponderous key turn in the lock, and 
the next moment the door swung open 
and Count Marco entered. 

“ Good morning, my fair Carmencita ; I 
trust I find you comfortable,’’ he said 


The Abduction, 


58 

coolly, with the most courtly of bows and 
sweetest of smiles. 

Carmencita vouchsafed him no reply 
save a look of withering scorn that flamed 
like lightning from her glorious dark eyes, 
and made him shrink for a moment before 
its wrathful blaze. 

Then recovering himself he continued: 
Come — come, my beautiful Carmen- 
cita, have you no kind greeting for your 
devoted admirer?” 

“ Leave the room, if you please, for I 
have nothing to say to you, save that this 
insult to me will be avenged,” she at last 
found voice to utter, while an indignant 
flush of crimson flamed into her cheeks 
and the look of contempt deepened in her 
eyes. 

Nothing to say to me,” he returned 
mocking, with an evil smile curving his lips 
that glared like a line of fire beneath his 
heavy black moustache. Surely it were 


The Abduction, 


59 


wiser my fair Carmencita to try and make 
terms with me than to bandy angry words. 
I love you and I want your love in return, 
but beware my haughty beauty that you 
change not that love into hate.” 

Count Marco,’’ she replied, it is 
cruel and unmanly for you to persecute a 
defenceless girl and to try to force a love 
from her that can never be yours, and the 
vengeance of heaven will be upon you for 
it. So release me, and I will forgive you 
this outrage upon me in abducting and 
keeping me a prisoner in this- hateful 
place. There are other women you will 
find to love you, for you are handsome, 
wealthy and generous, so why not bestow 
your love upon them and find a happi- 
ness that I can never give you.” 

“ There is but one woman on earth to 
me, ("armencita,” he returned passion- 
ately, and that is yourself, and I have 
sworn to make you my own by fair means 


6o 


The Abduction, 


or foul. You might as well try to stay 
the waves of the sea or to topple a moun- 
tain from its base as to move me from my 
purpose. As for the vengeance of heaven, 
I defy it. It is of no value to me beside 
your love. With the poet I exclaim : 

I’d barter the keys of heayen, 

I’d trample theai under feet 

For the taste of thy wine-like kisses, 

The throb of thy clasp, my sweet.’ 


So better, far better for you, Carmen- 

cita,’’ he added, to stop all resistance 

« 

and yield to my wishes by becoming mis- 
tress of my heart and life* than to make 
me do that to win you, which I should be 
sorry to do.” 

She could not misunderstand the in- 
sulting meaning of his passionate speech, 
or the burning, gloating look in his eyes 
that were eagerly fastened upon her face. 
The crimson flush faded from her face 
leaving her as pale as death with bitter 


The Abduction, 


’6 1 

shame at his rudeness, while she buried 
her face in her hands. 

^‘You understand .me,” he said with a 
malignant taunting laugh ; so much the 
better. Now listen to reason, Carmcn- 
cita, I love you and will do all in my 
power to make you happy, but if you re- 
fuse to do as I wish, I will — ah — well, you 
know you are in my power.’’ 

By the time he had ceased speaking all 
the fierce spirit of her race within her had 
asserted itself, and drawing herself up as 
proudly as an outraged queen might have 
done, she cried in a white heat of passion : 
“ You villain ! You cowardly dog, how 
dare you threaten me thus ! Know that 
I hate you, I defy you, I spurn you as the 
dust beneath my feet, and would more 
willingly deliver myself to the embrace of 
yonder blood-hound than to yours, and 
rather than accede to your wishes, I will 
die by my own hand,” 


62 


The Abduction, 


» 

She was rarely, peerlessly beautiful 
with that hot flush of anger burning in 
her face, an.d its lightning-like flash 
blazing in her dark eyes, and, as Count 
Marco watched her, the passion that was 
seething within him was wrought to a 
maddening frenzy. 

Rave on, my beauty,” he said admir- 
ingly, it makes me only the more de- 
termined to win you and tame you into 
subjection. By Jove! I never saw you 
looking more beautiful, more utterly fas- 
cinating ; so come now, my lovely one, 
and let us be friends, and seal our friend- 
ship with a kiss.” 

Mi chiquita^'' he added, while his 
passion rose stronger and stronger within 
him, and he advanced toward her to em- 
brace her. 

“Come share the happy transports of your love, 
Come, come, my darling, to my longing arms, 

And, lying on my throbbing heart discover 
The wealth and beauty of your glowing charms.” 


CHAPTER VI. 


FOILED. 

He might as well have sought to em- 
brace an enraged serpent. 

For, as he stretched out his hands to 
clasp her, Carmencita quickly drew 
forth a small jewelled stiletto that was 
concealed in her bosom, and which she 
always considered it expedient to carry. 
Raising its glittering blade aloft, she cried 
out : 

Advance one step nearer. Count 
Marco Durazzi, and you are a dead man, 
for I truthfully warn you that I will 
plunge this stiletto into your breast, and 


64 


Foiled, 


failing in that, I swear by all I hold sacred 
I will kill myself 

There was a look on her face not to be 
mistaken, and Count Marco was com- 
pletely cured by it, for he had no inten- 
tion of having blood shed to accomplish 
his purpose, while her dauntless spirit 
filled him with an admiration that was 
stronger than his vile passion for her and 
conquered it so much as to make him 
answer : 

My brave Carmencita, you have van- 
quished me and won the victory, and now 
if you will swear to me that you will 
reveal naught of your abduction or what 
has occurred here to any living soul, I 
will let you go home at once and no 
further insult shall be offered you. The 
people with whom you are living, if they 
question you where you spent the night 
away from them, you can tell that you 
were invited after the theatre to a house to 


Foiled, 


65 


dance for a private party, and as the hour 
was very late when it ended, you were 
pressed to remain until morning and 
accepted the invitation. Will you swear 
to do so, I ask you.’' 

I swear,” answered Carmencita, anx- 
ious to leave the dreaded chateau at any 
price, save that of her honor. 

A few hours later Carmencita found 
herself safe in her own room at home, and 
no one in Paris, save herself and Count 
Marco, and the coachmen whom she 
refused to allow to drive her again, was 
aware how their beautiful favorite had 
been forcibly abducted from their midst 
for a fate worse than that of death. 


CHAPTER VII. 


THE DUEL. 

It was about a week after his abduction 
of Carmencita that Count Marco, in com- 
pany with a party of friends, was seated 
at one of the tables of a well-known wine 
room in Paris. 

All the Count’s mad passion for Car- 
mencita had increased with tenfold force, 
and, as only a man can who has been disap- 
pointed in similar cases, he cursed himself 
again and again, that while he had her in 
his power he had foolishly allowed himself 
to release her. 

He was fiercely jealous of all her other 
admirers and hated them, but none so bit- 


The Duel. 


67 


terly as he hated the Viscount Armand de 
Sallauness, because Carmencita seemed to 
smile more graciously upon him than all 
the others, and he, the Count, had heard 
how Armand had declared that he loved 
Carmencita so well that he was willing 
to make her his Countess. 

So a little later, when Armand, accom- 
panied by the Marquis de Loubens, also 
sauntered into the wine room, and was 
within hearing distance, the Count, mad- 
dened with rage and jealousy, skillfully 
concealed with the sweetest of smiles, 
purposely lifted to his lips, his wine glass 
which had just been freshly filled, and 
said : 

Here's to the most beautiful woman 
in Paris, the charming dancer, Carmencita, 
who is awfully fond of me, but distributes 
her favors equally with — " 

Before he could utter another word Ar- 
mand, who had grown as pale as death. 


68 


The Duel, 


tossed liis freshly lighted cigar into a tray, 
and striding up to the Count delivered a 
stinging slap on his smiling face, the force 
of which was so great it caused the wine 
glass he held to fall from his hands and 
shiver into atoms upon the floor. 

Don’t you dare to pollute that name 
here, ’’Armand thundered, while the Count, 
with all the wine flush faded out of his 
face, sprang in a white heat of passion 
upon him. 

There would probably have been mur- 
der done at that moment had the men 
been left to themselves, but frightened 
friends of both ran forward and separated 
them. 

Here’s my card, sir,” said the Count, 
looking as if all the fires of hell had been 
lit within him, and speaking in tones ex- 
quisitely inviting, while he contemp- 
tuously threw his card at Armand, ‘‘so let 
US,’’ he added, “ see what we can do in the 


The Duel, 


69 


morning about this little matter when we 
have slept over it. It is your life or mine, 
so see,” this significantly and with the ut- 
most sau^ froid, that your pistols or any 
weapons you choose are in readiness.” 

“ Mon Dieu ! Armand,” said the Mar- 
quis, when he had succeeded in getting 
the latter outside the wine room, what 
a foolhardy thing you have done, for 
Count Marco is an excellent shot, and 
your life, no doubt, will pay the forfeit.” 

I don’t care,” passionately answered 
Armand, I would do the same thing any 
number of times over and would cheerfully 
yield up twenty lives if I had them, rather 
than to allow that vile Italian wretch to 
defame a name that is dearer than life to 
me, and as pure as the driven snow.’’ 
After a nearly sleepless night, Armand 
rose at five o’clock the following morning 
and looking out of the window saw that 


70 


The Duel, 


a heavy fog hung like a thick curtain over 
the earth. 

He started out and soon reached the 
home of the Marquis whom he found al- 
ready up. His cab, with a case of 
duelling ' pistols on the seat, stood at 
the door waiting to convey himself and 
Armand to the spot selected on the pre- 
vious night for the duel. 

They were on the ground by seven 
o’clock, and the fog continued so dense as 
to prevent their seeing each other distinct- 
ly at a few yards’ distance. This puzzled 
the parties not a little, and threatened to 
interfere with business. 

Everything by is against us to- 

day,” exclaimed the Marquis, while he 
placed the pistol under his arm and but- 
toned his long coat up to the chin, “for 
this fog will hinder you seeing one another 

and this d d rain will soak through to 

the priming, dn fact, you must be put 


The Duel, 


n 


up within eight or ten feet of each other.” 
Settle all that as soon as you like,” 
replied Armand, while he paced rapidly to 
and fro. 

Haloo ! here ! here we are !” cried out 
the Marquis a moment later, seeing 
three shadowy figures within a few yards 
searching about for them. The Count 
had brought with him, beside the friend 
who was to act as his second, a young 
surgeon. 

The fog thickened rapidly as soon as they 
had come together, and Armand and Count 
Marco took their stands a little distance 
from their respective friends. 

^^Any chance of an apology?” whis^ 
pered the Count’s second to the Marquis. 

‘‘Devil a bit,’’ returned the Marquis, 
and he added, “I am afraid it will be a 
duel to the death of one or the other of 
them.” 

“About how far had you better place 


72 


The DiceL 


them in this cursed fog ?” asked the other, 
when the Marquis had concluded. 

Oh, the usual distance. Step them 
out the baker’s dozen. Give them every 
chance, for God favors them with this 
fog.” 

‘‘ But they won’t see one another any 
more than the blind! ’Tis a complete 
farce, for how can they mark? — but they 
are both in a savage mood and ready to 
take any chances.” 

When the distance had been stepped 

out and the duelists stationed in their 

✓ 

places, Armand could not even catch a 
glimpse of the Count, to whom he was 
equally invisible. 

“ Well,” they both thought, ^‘if we miss 
we can fire again.’’ 

In a few minutes the voice of the Mar- 
quis called out loudly, but nervously, 
‘^One! Two! Three!” 

As the fatal three ” was called, both 


The DucL 


73 


pistol-fires flashed through the fog at 
once, and the seconds rushed up to their 
men. 

Armand, where are you ? ’’ called the 
Marquis. Count Marco, where are you ?” 
asked his friend. 

‘‘ Here ! ” answered both Armand and 
the Count, but the latter’s voice betrayed 
that he had been hurt. 

Armand was unharmed, but the chance 
shot from his pistol had struck the Count’s 
right arm, rendering it useless and in- 
flicting a painful but not fatal wound, 
which was soon attended to by the sur- 
geon. 

I tell you what, Armand,” said the 
Marquis, while the two friends were on 
their way home in the cab, that fog was 
a d — d lucky thing for you, for Count 
Marco is a splendid shot, none better, and 
if he could only have seen to mark you, 
he would, no doubt, have aimed for your 


74 


The DueL 


heart, and you would this moment have 
been a dead man instead of the very 
much alive one that you are.” 

‘'Maybe I would have been a dead 
man, and maybe not,” returned Armand 
with a grim smile, “but at all events,” 
he added, “ Count Marco has been taught 
better than to bandy Carmencita’s name 
about in the drunken, ribald manner that 
he did last night,’* 


CHAPTER VIII. 


IN AMERICA. 

Soon after Carmencita left Paris for 
Spain again, and thither Armand, accom- 
panied by the Marquis, followed her, as 
did also Count Marco. 

After fulfilling her engagements there 
which were marked by a series of triumphs, 
she returned to Paris to dance at the 
the Nouveau Cirque, and at length was 
induced by Kiralfy, who had been after 
her for a long time, to come with him to 
America and appear in Antiope ” at 
Niblo’s Garden. 

Just before leaving she was rid forever 
of her Linwelcomed admirer, the Count 


76 . 


In America, 


Marco Durazzi, for he was killed in a duel 
with one of his companions in a gambling 
house, who had accused him of cheating at 
cards. 

But Armand accompanied her to Amer- 
ica on the same vessel, much to the 
amusement of the Marquis, who laugh- 
ingly dubbed him Carmencita's shadow/' 

The Marquis did not go with them, but 
promised Armand to join him in New 
York city as soon as he had transacted 
some important business that needed his 
attention. 

The long voyage over gave Armand 
many opportunities for the most delight- 
ful tete-a-tetes with Carmencita. When 
alone on the decks, they watched the ever 
varying beauties of the unbroken views 
of sea and sky. 

He felt that this was a most favorable 
opportunity for him to declare the mad 
adoring love that filled his heart for her 


In America. 


71 


and end the suspense that seemed con- 

suming his life with its fever. 

« 

But, although his bravery was such that 
if he was called on the battlefield, he 
would have gone to the very front where 
the fire was the thickest, he was a very 
coward in the war of love, and he feared 
to put to Carmencita the question that 
his lips longed do ask her, if she could 
ever return his love or become his wife. 

He thought of every word she had ever 
uttered to him and of every glance she 
had bestowed upon him, but such 
thoughts did not bring him much com- 
fort, for his reason taught him that not 
one word or glance of hers had been more 
tender or loving than she would have be- 
stowed on any friend. 

He told himself that surely she must 
read in his devotion to her and his every 
look that was more expressive than words, 
and in the verses of poetry he composed 


78 


In America, 


about her or read to her, how great .was 
his love for her, but she never gave any 
sign to him that she did. 

One night after they had been sitting 
for some time together on the deck 
silently watching the moon that was ris- 
ing out of the misty'bosom of the sea, he 
felt that he could no longer endure his 
suspense and must learn his fate from the 
lips of this Spanish girl, beautiful as a 
houri or an opium-eater’s dream, who had 
bewitched and forever enslaved him with 
the spell of her wondrous beauty. 

And after he had wrapped a thick 
cloak about her to protect her from the 
chilling sea breeze he bent over her with 
a world of love looking out of his deep 
blue gray eyes, and to prepare the way 
for his declaration of love to her, ten- 
derly and passionately quoted : 

‘ You are a dream that lies upon me, making 
My soul ache with its glory ; let me feast 


In America. 


79 


In that soft splendor, radiant as the breaking 
Of a new moon unfolding in the east, 

Oh ! let me wear you as a mantle, decking 
Its folds with unmatched spangles from your 
heart, 

As broad skies wear their stars, so grandly flecking 
Their glowing depths with care in every part. 

You are an echo from the world of stars ; 

A Symphony — rare, rounded in love ; 

A book of sweetest music without bars, 

Breaking unchecked to hungering air above. 

I measure out my passion in vain verse ; 

It unwinds from my soul as from a reel ; 

But ah ! how idly, for none may rehearse 

The soul-born love which only I can feel. 

« 

Then the words began to tremble on 
his lips that he had so long yearned to 
utter and would have been spoken, but 
just at that fateful moment a little party 
came from the saloon within and joined 
them, and his opportunity was lost. 


CHAPTER IX. 


THE SUICIDE OF ARMAND. 

“ Carmencita is destined to become fa- 
mous here in America as she did in Eu- 
rope,’’ said Armand the day after the 
Marquis had joined him in New York 
while the two were enjoying a cigar to- 
gether in Armand’s richly-furnished apart- 
ments in the hotel where he was stop- 
ping. 

^‘For/’ he continued, the press are 
already beginning to notice her and rave 
about her, and that goes a great way to- 
ward ,it. Just listen while I read you 
how a talented and well-known writer en- 


The Suicide of A r maud. 


8i 


thuses over her in this copy of “ Le Chat 
Noir” of August 23d.” 

“ Carmencita possesses the most de- 
lightfully limber spine that I have seen 
exercised. The bills call her the ‘ Mid- 
night Passion Flower, the Pearl of Se- 
ville.’ It is a weak metaphor. She’s a 
veritable serpent of rampant coils, fluctu- 
ant as smoke, elusive as mercury, beauti- 
ful as a lonely star.” 

The scintillant smiles of a Spanish 
sky, the smooth dream of the mandolin, 
the click-clack of castanets go rippling 
through her fresh, young form. Limitless 
bliss dilates in her deep eyes, her crim- 
son mouth melts moistily with a gorgeous 
smile, and she ends it all with a sublime 
wriggle.” 

‘‘ Mercy on us ! what a wriggle this one is 
of Carmencita’s ! She only takes up three 
minutes of ‘ Antiope ’ at Niblo’s, but that 
three minutes is the whole evening — in 


82 The Suicide of Aruiand, 

fact, it is the history of a life-time. 
Poetry, plastic art and music are fused 
into those wriggles. They begin at the 
girdle and shiver upwards, vanishing at 
the finger tips, and then winging invisibly 
in the clouds, I presume. We have had 
the idyl of the heel and toe to perfec- 
tion hitherto, but it has required Carmen- 
cita to supply the overwhelming torsal 
writhe.” 

“ She is a supreme beauty. The ro- 
mances of Seville and Cadiz have never 
breathed more divine visions than she 
supplies, and the maddening mist of the 
mantilla has never screened a fairer coun- 
tenance. Pink as roses is her flesh, black 
as the raven is her hair, and her eyes are 
eclipsed suns — radiant as noonday and 
the color of midn ight.” 

“She dances principally with her arms, 
shoulders and neck. She flings herself 
backward from her waist like a rattler 


The Suicide of Arinand, 83 

about to strike, hisses strangely, twists 
latitudinally, spirates like a whiplash, and 
reaches a spasmodic climax with her hands 
on her undulating hips, her glorious head 
laid back defiantly, and her bust jutting 
bravely to the front.” 

I don’t see where the dudes are. 
They went mad over Sylvia Gray, and 
here is a woman by the side of whom 
Sylvia is a poor, insignificant crab-apple. 
She tosses the entire Casino over her 
head. Russell is a feather bolster in 
comparison ; Urquhart a doorstep. She 
has one expression, a fainting of the eyes 
and slow wreathing of the lips, that is 
equal to the dawn of a new life. The 
man who doesn’t see Carmencita is a poor 
wretch, and he’ll end up his existence 
with a gap in his heart big enough for 
a horse and car to drive through.” 

‘‘Our old friend, “ Brudder Bolossy ” I 
believe it is, has been faithful in his pro- 


84 


The Suicide of Armand, 


duction of ^Aiitiope/ Besides Carmen- 
cita he has flooded several hundred more 
women in a truly startling ocean of 
ballet, and waves of graceful limbs splash 
and sparkle in the soft lights, and the 
expanse of unobscured femaleness is posi- 
tively vast. But after all, the languorous 
swirl of Carmencita comprises the whole 
glow and glamor of the night. She has 
poetized, spiritualized, immortalized the 
wriggle. You will not understand why I 
lay so much stress on the accomplishment 
until she has made your own heart beat 
with wonder.’’ 

How is that for a stunner of a de- 
scription ? ” said Armand, when he had 
concluded reading, ^^and what can be 
taken from it or or what added, to better 
describe ‘ the beauties of her face ’ and 
‘ glories of her form ? ’ ” 

Then taking up another copy of the 
same daily before the Marquis could 


The Siiicide of Armand. 85 

answer, he added, and just listen to 
this.’’ 

Carmencita ! Marvel of sinuous sweet- 
ness ; a lithe, serpentine girl set to heav- 
enly music. There are two minutes of 
her every night at Niblo’s. Those two 
minutes are worth six weeks at Narragan- 
sett Pier. Go to see her if you have to 
pawn your jewelry to do so. It is impos- 
sible to have missed her and lived.” 

Very good,’’ said the Marquis ; with 
such press notices as those and, others I 
have noticed, she will become the craze of 
New York in time, if she has not al- 
ready.” 

But I say, Armand,” he continued 
banteringly, how much longer are you 
going to follow the divine Carmencita as 
her very shadow, and where do you mean 
it all to end? Have you proposed to her 
yet and offered to make her your Count- 


86 The Suicide of Arinand, 

ess, as you have so often said you would 
do/’ 

No,” replied Armand gloomily, I 
have not, and I am in the same fix describ- 
ed by the poet who wrote:” 

‘ The flower I have but to beck for, 

Falls under my feet to die, 

While the one I would risk my neck for 
Grows up on the mountain high/ 

For,” he continued, ‘‘although I have 
conquered all other women before her 
whom I set my heart on winning, I 
cannot thus Carmencita, for she seems as 
unapproachable to a heart’s worship as 
some beautiful glittering, far-off star that 
one may look upon but never obtain. She is 
so wrapped up in her art the she is imper- 
vious to all else.” 

Soon after the Marquis took his depart- 
ure and Armand went, as was his daily 
custom, to call on Carmencita and try and 
see her alone, if but a few moments, or, 


Ihe Suicide of Armand. 8/ 

failing in that, to linger near the house 
where she lived, that he might at least 
breathe the same air with her. 

He still put off the fatal day that would 
end his suspense, and when her engage- 
ment at Niblo’s was ended and she was 
started on a tour through the States, he 
followed after her wherever she went, cling- 
ing to her presence as a drowning man to 
a straw. 

This tour ended, she came back to 
New York under contract to dance at 
Koster and Bial’s well known and popular 
concert hall in Twenty-third street, and 
from the first moment that she appeared 
upon its stage she began to ride on a wave 
of popularity that soon had her poised on 
its highest crest. 

Even here, Armand followed her night 
after night. He and his friend, the Marquis, 
cauld be seen sipping their favorite drinks 
atone of the tables, or seated in one of 


88 The Suicide of Aruiand. 

the private boxes near the stage, while 
they watched and waited for the time 
for Carmencita to appear, as so many 
others were doing. 

At last the day came when Armand felt 
that he could no longer bear his suspense 
and live, and with this feeling strong upon 
him he went to Carmencita, and when he 
found himself alone with her, he at once 
poured into her ears the story he had for 
so long a time longed yet dreaded to tell 
of his mad, adoring love for her, and 
ended by asking her to become his wife. 

Then, with a world of love and eager 
hope on his handsome face, he awaited 
her answer. 

‘‘I am sorry, my friend,” she at last 
gently said, that it is impossible for me 
to do as you ask me, for I do not and can- 
not love you in the way you wish; my love 
is all given to my art, and loving it as, I 


The Suicide of Armand, 89 

do I want to devote all my time to it, and 
have no time for marriage.” 

All the look of hope had died but of his 
face while she was speaking, and while a 
look of unutterable despair swept over it 
instead, he threw himself upon his knees 
beside her when she had concluded, and 
seizing her little white hands in his strong 
ones, cried out brokenly : 

“ Oh, Carmencita, my beautiful love, 
my life, I beg you, unsay those cruel words 
you have just uttered, for I cannot bear 
them and live. I must have your love, for 
without it I shall die.” 

“ You must not speak in that way,” she 
said softly, while she looked pityingly down 
• upon him, “for you are young, and if you 
will go away from me, you will learn to 
forget me and to give your love to some 
one more worthy to share your great 
wealth.” 


90 The Suicide aj Armand. 

I can never forget you," he interrupted 
passionately, and as for my wealth — 

‘ What is the wealth of the Indies 
Compared with the love of, one ? 

E’n heaven is a desert without it 
Unblesssed with the light of a sun.’ ” 

‘‘ So mi vida" (my life), he continued, 
^‘have pity on me, for I can no longer 
live without your love and even heaven 
would be desolate to me if you did not 
share it with me. So bid me hope that 
you will reconsider your decision and bid 
me live, for I will go from you to die if 
you do not," 

I cannot, my friend," she answered 
sadly, but firmly, for I would only be 
deceiving you if I did. My mind is fully 
made up not to marry, and I do not or 
cannot give to any man the love you 
ask for, but we may still be friends, may 
we not, and forget that this scene between 
us has ever occurred.^ " 


The Suicide of Arman d, 91 

Seeing that his pleadings were useless, 
with an agonizing feeling of pain and 
desolation in his heart, that seemed each 
moment as if it would kill him, and his 
brain feeling as if it would burst, he cast 
one last unutterable, despairing look on 
Carmencita’s beautiful face, such as Adam 
might have cast at the Eden forever lost 
to him, and simply saying, adieu, my 
life,’’ passed out of her presence. 

When at last he managed to reach his 
own apartments, like one too dazed by a 
heavy blow to offer any further resistance, 
he uttered neither word, nor moan nor 
prayer, but calmly seating himself before 
his writing-desk, opened the diary that 
contained the story of his love for Car- 
mencita-. 

After reading it through to the last 
chapter, beginning with the impassioned 
lines of the French poet, Baudelaire, 


92 The Suicide of Armand, 

I adore thee, in my passion 
Careless, thoughtless, girl of mine, 

With the priest’s wild, mad devotion, 

For his altar and his shrine. 

Underneath your satin slippers, 

Have I thrown my love, my hate, 

' Have I flung my joy, my manhood, 

Flung my genius and my fate, 

he added the sad story of how after 
declaring his love for Carmencita, he had 
been refused by her, and as he loved her so, 
could no longer bear to exist without her 
preferring death to the misery of life, and 
so intended dying by his own hand by 
taking poison in his possession, both so 
subtle and powerful in its working, that 
it would kill instantly and yet leave no 
trace of its presence, thus saving his 
proud name from the shame of after con- 
sequences — of the suicide’s disgrace. 

After penning as the final lines to this 
confession. 

Ye gods, she is so fair and sweet, 

I’ve cast my life beneath her feet, 


The Suicide of Armatid, 93 

he enclosed the diary in a large envelope, 
which he sealed and directed to his friend, 
the Marquis de Loubens. 

This done, he opened a drawer in the 
desk and took from it the poison he had 
mentioned. 

It was in the form of a powder, and 
shone in his hand like a crushed diamond, 
and so small that the merest breath blow- 
ing upon it could reduce it to nothingness, 
and yet it possessed a power that larger 
things might envy, for it held the key to 
unlock the mysterious portals of the 
unknown world beyond. 

He walked steadily to the table that 
contained some wine glasses, and, taking 
one of them, calmly shifted the powder 
into it. Then raising a caraffe fdled with 
water, with a steady hand he poured some 
of it upon the tiny crystals in the glass. 
..A moment they bubbled, foamed upward, 
and then died away. Armand, raising the 


94 


The Suicide of Arfuand. 


glass, drained it. A moment later, and 
he ioOy like those bubbles — perished. 

The following day when the door was 
burst open by the servants, when he did 
not make his appearance, he was found 
resting in such a natural position with his 
arms spread upon the table and his head 
lying upon them, they thought at first he 
was only in a deep sleep. Then the all 
powerful silence of death filled them with 
its awe, and convinced them that their 
fears had not been groundless, and phy* 
sicians were hastily summoned and the 
Marquis de Loubens, Armand’s most in- 
timate friend. 

The verdict returned by the learned 
physicians as to the cause of death was 

heart failure,” for the poison, as Ar- 
mand had stated, left no trace of its 


CHAPTER X. 


carmencita’s dream. 

It was the morning after the suicide of 
Armand, and as tragedy and comedy are 
so often mingled on the boards of the 
stage of life, Carmencita, all unknowing 
of the death of him who had laid down 
his young and vigorous life because of his 
mad love for her, was eating a bunch of 
the grapes that are her favorite fruit, and 
gayly chatting with some of the Spanish 
friends who had called in to see her as 
was their usual custom. 

Oh, I must tell you, amiguitos mios^'^ 
(my friends), she exclaimed suddenly in 
her pure liquid Spanish, about the won- 
derful dream that I had last night.” 


96 


Carniencita s Dream. 


It was about the benefit that MESSRS. 
Koster and Bial have so kindly prom- 
ised to give me/' she continued, while all 
eyes were fixed attentively upon her. 

It was wonderful ! wonderful ! wonder- 
ful ! this dream of mine,’’ she went on, 
while she clasped her little white hands 
expressively together, and if it could 
only be true, how truly happy I should 
be!” 

^^But, ah, — no, it is impossible! ’’ she 
said, as if speaking to herself, while she 
gave a long, deep drawn sigh, and the 
'dazzling smile on her lips was succeeded 
by an equally enchanting pout. 

But listen, and I will tell you,” she 
went on, while as quickly vanishing as an 
April storm before the sunlight, the pout 
was gone and a rare winning smile flit- 
ted across her perfect red lips again at 
the remembrance of her dream. 

I dreamed, as I have already told you, 


Ca 7 ' m cncit a ’ Drca in. 9 7 

that it was the night of my benefit ; and 
now to go on with my story. When the 
time came for me to go on the stage, I 
found an audience awaiting me that made 
my brain reel and whirl with happiness 
and made me dance as I have never danced 
before when awake.’’ 

She paused for a moment to give a sil- 
very, rippling laugh that rang and echoed 
through the room, and then continued : 

“ First of all I saw Oueen Christina of 
Spain, smiling upon me from one of the 
private boxes, for it seemed she had come 
all the way from Madrid expressly to at- 
tend my benefit, and beside her was seated 
cl rcy chico, (the little king), who opened 
his big eyes wider and loudly laughed and 
clapped at me, just as he did when I was 
fortunate enough to please him when I 
danced before the royal party in the pa- 
lace in my own country.’’ 

“ In the same box with the Queen and 


98 


Carniencita's DrearH^ 


the little king was the Austrian Princess 
(the Queen’s friend), and Don Roderico, 
de Manara, the majordo^no of the royal 
house-hold, to whom I presented the slip- 
pers I wore when I danced at the pal- 
ace, (and which he vowed, naughty man ! 
he would kiss every day,) and both of 
these, the Princess and Don Roderico, also 
kindly applauded me.’’ 

Then, as if to please me still more,” 
she went on (after a brief pause to eat 
some grapes), it seemed that Messrs. 
Koster & Bial had dismissed their usual 
fine orchestra for the night, and that the 
royal band, those splendid, black-whisker- 
ed fellows from guardia royal of Mad- 
rid, played for me to dance instead, just 
as they did when I was at the palace.” 

In another of the boxes I beheld 
another Queen with her son, the Prince, 
beside her, who had his lorgnette con- 
stantly levelled at me and was most critic- 


Carmencita s Dream, 


99 


ally examining me, and in the same box 
with them was President and Mrs. Harri 
gon, while in the other boxes near them 
was Mr. James P. Maine and his wife, 
together with some of the other members 
of his family, also Mr. and Mrs. Clevleda, 
also that American gentleman — what’s his 
name ? — who has the eloquence of a Cicero, 
and whom the newspapers call the golden 
and silver-tongued orator? oh — ah! I 
mean Senor Chancelo Defruter.'’ 

There were lots of the distinguished 
present,” she added with another merry 
laugh, for I saw nearly all of the Four 
Hundred.” 

Then I saw all the noble and profes- 
sional beauties who were pictured with 
me in the Cosmopolitan Magazine of last 
January, Mrs. Potter, Mrs. Langtry and 
Mary Anderson, who was accompanied by 
her handsome Spanish betrothed husband, 
Seflor Jos^ de Navarro, and the other 


lOO 


Carmcncita s Drcavv, 


famous beauties whose names are too 
.numerous for me to mention.” 

And to add to all this distinguished 
crowd,” she went on, after another brief 
pause to eat some more grapes and greet 
another friend who had just called in to 
see her, ‘‘ there were artists, and sculptors, 
and musicians, and well-known lit'erary 
people, besides many members of the 
dramatic profession, including all of the 
managers with whom I have ever con- 
tracted to dance.’’ 

“And then, how funny it was ! I recog- 
nized the bandit chief of whom you have 
often heard me tell how he captured me 
once in Spain', smiling and nodding at me 
from one of the boxes placed nearest the 
stage, and seated beside him and chatting 
with him as with an intimate friend was 
Inspector Byrnes, New York’s champion 
thief-hunter and catcher.” 

•“ After the performance was ended 


Carmencita s Dream, 


lOI 


each and all of my audience crowded 
around me to compliment me on my 
dancing and offer their congratulations 
for the great success of my benefit so that 
I was nearly suffocated for want of air 
and was compelled to beg for their mercy.” 
I tell you I* was nearly crazy with 
joy and the excitement of it all ; for be- 
sides tendering me their expressions of 
admiration and congratulation^ I was pre- 
sented by them with a magnificent gold 
medal, more beautiful than either of those 
I received in Paris or Philadelphia, while 
they showered upon me such costly floral 
offerings as I have never before beheld, 
for all through them, sparkling like count- 
less dew drops were scattered diamond 
rings, earrings, brooches, bracelets and 
necklaces of such value that a queen 
might well envy them.” 

“ One of the European princes inter- 
viewed me in the reception room, and 


102 


Carmencita s Dream, 


when he saw me expressed his delight with 
my dancing and with my beauty which 
seemed to please him still more. He pre- 
sented me with a superb necklace of per- 
fectly matched pearls that were like 
linked globes of snow bathed in moon- 
light, and while doing so he whispered 
to me that they would make a striking 
contrast to the fiery glow of my dark 
Spanish beauty, and made other flattering 
and poetical speeches that I can’t remem- 
ber, and he also gave me with his mother’s, 
(the Queen,) compliments a rare India 
shawl that he assured me was a mark of 
favor she usually bestowed on those who 
especially [)leased her.” 

Carmencita paused to recover breath 
while she opened with childish cries of 
delight a package that had just arrived 
for her that proved to be a costly fan of 
yory and gold that had been sent her 


Carmencita s Dream, lo^ 

by one of her numerous admirers, and 
then went on after another merry laugh. 

‘‘ But what seemed to amuse most of 
all in my dream was when a gentleman 
whom I had noticed, while I was dancing, 
slyly peeping at me now and then from 
the draperies of the box he was in, was 
introduced to me after the performance 
was over as that noted Brooklyn priest 
or minister.” 

‘‘For, after being introduced to me, he 
bestowed on me a most lovely bouquet of 
roses and then told me some bible story 
about a king who had been so charmed 
with the dancing of one of his dancing 
girls that he promised to give her what- 
ever she wished, even unto the half of 
his kingdom, but the wicked, foolish girl 
that she was only asked for the head 
of St. John the Baptist, and got it too.” 

“The Rev. gentleman after telling me the 
story, assured me that, although he con- 


i04 


Cafmencita s Dream, 


demned the king for giving her the saint’s 
head as a reward for her dancing, he did 
not blame him for promising her the half 
of his kingdom if her dancing was any- 
thing near as charming as mine, and only 
wondered that he had not offered her the 
whole of it and himself td^boot.” 

‘‘Ah ! continued Carmencita, while an- 
other deep drawn sigh burst from her 
lips, ‘* how I wish it had been true, this 
dream of mine, for although I was de- 
lighted with my royal, distinguished and 
cultured audience who had favored me 
with their presence and smiles of approval 
and who had presented me with such 
a magnificent gold medal, and flowers and 
jewels, and also with the music of the 
royal band, the decorations of Spanish 
and American flags, the sceneries that de- 
picted places in my own native coun- 
try, and the Bolero and bull fight that is 
our national amusement, the beautiful 


Caruiencita s Dream. 


105 


picture of me painted by Sargent that was 
exhibited at the front of the stage, all 
of which Messrs. Koster & Dial had 
brought to their concert hall especially 
for my benefit ; I was more than delighted 
for I was wild with joy when the many, 
many dollars that had been received for 
the performance, and that it took many 
hours to count, were kindly and generously 
tendered to me by my managers.’’ 

She paused again, while she appeared 
lost in deep thought, and then added: 

“ Oh, I knew there was something I had 
not told you yet, for I forgot to tell how, 
in my dream, all the ladies and gentlemen 
present, after complimenting me about my 
dancing, all began to clamor to have their 
fortunes told, as I had done in imitation of 
the gypsies in Spain for the Professor, an 
account of which you have no doubt read 
in the Sunday Herald of April 20th.” 

The clamor was so great that I was in 


io6 


Carmencita s Dream, 


a dilemma whom to oblige first, when one 
of the gentlemen present kindly helped me 
out of my difficulty by standing upon ‘ a 
table and turning himself into a sort of 
auctioneer for me.” 

“Come, now, ladies and gentlemen,” 
he said, ‘‘ do be reasonable, for much as 
she may wish to doso> the charming Cai- 
mencita cannot oblige you all at the same 
time, so I propose to you that she tells 
first to the highest bidder.” 

Again Carmencita paused, while peal 
after peal of laughter rang out from her 
red lips, and then went on : 

“ What am I offered?” he then began to 
shout, and almost before the words were 
out of his mouth, they all began to shout 
out at once, so that it was impossible 
to tell for a moment who was the highest 
bidder, for all of them offered such muni- ‘ 
hcent sums that it took my breath away 
with astonishment,” 


Carnicncita s Dream. ioj 

“It will not be fair for me to mention 
the name of the one who proved to be the 
highest bidder, as I number so many 
among my sincere admirers, but suffice it 
to say that the sum that crossed my palm 
for the first fortune I had to tell was 
$500.’' 

“ And so on, down to sums of not' much 
less value, I went on telling fortunes in 
my dream, until I became so rich I began 
to think it would take an extra cab beside 
the two that would already have to con- 
vey myself and my floral offerings to my 
home, to take my fast accumulating wealth 
there/' 

“ And when at last it was all packed 
into a large satchel together with the 
many costly jewels I had received, and 
I had reached home, and alone in my 
own room had counted over the money 
which came to $10,000, judge of my bitter 
disappointment when the loud barking of 


Io8 Carmenciia s D reant. 

a dog aroused me and I awoke and found 
it had all been a dream.” 

But, although I was disappointed,” 
she added in conclusion, I could not 
help Jaeing amused, that I had dreamed 
my benefit had taken place, when it will 
not be until the 2ist of May.” 

Just as she concluded the servant en- 
tered and announced the Marquis de 
Loubens, and after Carmencita had mu- 
sically murmured to him, sir vase Vd. sen- 
tarse, cahallero (will you please be seated, 
sir), as she noticed the pallor and troubled 
expression on his face, she abruptly res- 
trained the gay sally that she was about 
to indulge in after her greeting of him, 
and for a moment utter silence reigned 
throughout the room. 

It was at length broken by the Mar- 
quis, who announced in a low, sad voice 
how his friend, the Vicount Armand de 


Cannencita s Dream. 


Jeej) 

Sallauness had been found dead in his 
room that morning. 

Poo; fellow! what a pity that he should 
die so young, and I liked him so much!’’ 
said Carmencita, after the first shock the 
news had given her had passed away, and 
as she spoke, the saddest of looks swept 
over her beautiful face. 

“ What was the cause of his death, do 
you know? ’’ asked one of the gentlemen 
present. 

The doctors say it was heart failure,” 
briefly answered the Marquis. 

Me did not wish to pain the beautiful 
Carmencita who had been the innocent 
cause of Armand’s death by reason of her 
alluring beauty that had made him mad 
with love for her, by telling her and the 
little group assembled there that the doc- 
tor’s verdict was all a mistake, and that he, 
the Marquis, had in liis possession at that 
very moment the diary left by Armand in 


liO Carmcncitci^s Dream. 

which was penned his dying confession 
that he was about to die by his own hand 
because he had been refused by Carmen- 
cita, and loving her so well could not bear 
to exist without her. 

And as the Marquis sadly continued to 
watch Carmencita’s beautiful face and sta- 
tuesque form, from which grace radiated 
at her every movement, he wondered how 
many men, like Armand, had been or 
would be made mad with love for her, 
while he mentally decided it would be no 
marvel if they were so. 


4 



\ 



LIFE OF CARMENCITA. 


And her hair is black as night, 

And her eyes are starry bright ; 

Olives on her brow are blooming, 

Roses red her lips perfuming ; 

And her step is light and airy 
As the tripping of a fairy. 

Carmencita, or Carmen Dauset, for that 
is her whole name and Carmencita is only 

her title upon the stage, was born in 

* 

Almeria near the beautiful and quaint old 
city of Seville in the year 1868. 

She astonished her people by commen- 
cing to walk at a very early age, not 
awkwardly or totteringly like most babies 
but with a grace and assurance born of 


1 1 2 Life of Carjiicncita, 

experience, as if she had been walking for 
years. 

Indeed, her walking was really dancing^ 
and to quote the ‘ Cosmopolitan Maga- 
azine,' ‘ it was not the tiptoe pirouette of 
' the Italian or French baby, who is artistic 
and artificial by hereditary instinct, but 
‘ like the wave of the sea/ like the tossing 
of fuchsia bells in the wind, like a wind- 
blown flame, a flashing, vivid bit of Span- 
ish life, deep colored as pomegranate 
flowers, full of the untamed, animal grace 
of a people who have touches of the wild, 
desert blood in them, and, perchance 
somewhere, far away, a strain of the Zin- 
gari.’ 

And to-day the older people of her 
birthplace love to tell how, when she was 
but a little child among them. Carmen 
Dauset gave promise of the future great- 
ness for which she was destined. 

• When she was seven years old she was 


Life of Canncncita . 


113 

sent to school at Malaga, and for five 
years that was her home. 

During that time she studied dancing 
as an art by taking lessons in the regular 
dancing school there, the cost of which 
was $40 a month. 

This monthly sum was quite a drain on 
her father’s not too well filled purse, but 
kind and generous friends who admired 
and appreciated the lovely little Spanish 
girl’s wondrous grace and talent helped 
him, and the progression of the child 
genius was so rapid that she amazed 
teachers, parents and friends and all who 
beheld her dance. 

And when she was but twelve years of 
age she was considered an excellent dan- 
seuse, even among those girls whose 
untamed Southern ancestry, with all its 
wild animal grace, makes them dancers by 
birth.' 

Although Carmencita knew then that 


1 14 Life of Carmcncita, 

she was more than merely successful as so 
many are, she did not dream that she 
would become famous in other cities of 
Europe and in America. 

Brought up on grapes as she was, the 
warmth and bloom of them got into her 
blood and filled her with their fiery pas- 
sion and intoxicating loveliness. Like 
them she ripened rapidly under the burn- 
ing splendor of sunny, Spanish skies, for 
the bud of girlhood in which so many 
beautiful embryo leaves lay folded, had 
blossomed when she was but sixteen into 
the fulness of glowing, panting and luxu- 
riant womanhood, and made her the most 
exquisite type of Andalusian beauty. 

The first stage upon which she ever 
appeared was that of the Cervantes The- 
atre in the year 1880. Here she became 
an instant triumph, and gained more than 
ordinary distinction by giving two beau- 
tiful dances that were wholly her own in- 


Life of Carmcncita. 1 1 5 

vention. One of them she called the 
Petenera, and some of its graceful move- 
ments she presents to her audience some 
nights at Koster & Bial’s, where she is 
now engaged, while to the other she gave 
the name of the Vito (hat dance), and this 
she frequently gives in its entirety, and it 
is well worth a visit to the popular con- 
cert hall to see it alone. 

For four months she flitted before the 
delighted audience that nightly crowded 
the Cervantes to see her, and then she 
traveled all through Spain, winning higher 
praises than were ever given to any other 
danseuse. Efforts were made to get her 
to Paris, but the enthusiastic Spaniards 
insisted upon two years more, and she 
made another contract and danced all over 
her own country until 1884. 

Then she went to Paris, and in a short 
time was the craze of the Boulevards. In 
this home of art, nature and genius were 


Life of Carmencita, 


i i6 

triumphant, for even the blase Frenchman 
went in raptures over her and called her 

La Perle de Seville,” and presented her 
with a magnificent gold medal. 

Then she was visited by Don Roderico 
de Manara, one of the royal household, 
and was induced by him to return again 
to Spain. There she danced at Madrid 
in the palace before the royal family, and 
so delighted the Baby King that he 
watched her with his round eyes opened 
to their widest extent, and clapped his 
hands when she was done — the most spon- 
taneous and agreeable applause slie had 
ever had. 

From Madrid she went to Lisbon and 
to Valladolid, and then again to Paris to the 
Nouveau Cirque. P"or a long time while 
she remained in Paris Kiralfy was after 
her with inducements to go to America, 
but her success seemed likely to be per- 
manent in Europe and she hesitated, and 


Life of Carniencita, 117 

did not at all fancy the idea of a sea voyage 
and the cold of the United States. But 
finally Kiralfy’s inducements prevailed, 
and he made a contract with her, and 
slie came to America and appeared first 
in Antiope at Niblo’s Garden. 

It was not a favorable season for 
her advent, for that part of New York 
which is artistic and fashionable was out 
of town, but she was most warmly praised 
and enthused over by members of the 
pi ess who saw her dance. 

When the sculptors and artists and so- 
ciety people came back to the city Car- 
mencita had been started on a tour 
through the States. Here she did not 
win the fame that she had won in other 
cities, for the Westerners failed to note the 
wonderful charms in her which the higher 
talent and keener vision of the metropolis 
have since discovered. But the Western 
press did not wholly fail to appreciate 


ii8 


Life of Carmencita, 


her as can be seen from the following ex- 
tracts copied from the San Francisco 
Daily Report and Chronicle, the Daven- 
port Democratic Gazette and Tribune, 
and also one of the papers of Sacramento : 
Carmencita, the wonderful Spanish dan- 
cer, was greeted with rounds of applause 
and well did she deserve it. She danced 
in long skirts, and her dancing is of the 
genuine Spanish type as unlike the ordi- 
nary stage dancing as can well be imag- 
ined. Her performance is something that 
can’t be described.’’ 

‘‘ The Sevillian dancer is a marvel of 
grace and brilliancy in her dances, which 
are full of the passionate and romantic 
abandon ascribed to her race. No Span- 
ish dancer at all approaching her in 
rapidity, brilliancy, or gracefulness of 
pose has ever appeared here.’’ 

It was not until Carmencita stepped 
upon the boards in Fc*bruary last at 


Life of Carmencita. 


119 


Koster & Bial’s that she really made her 
American debut. 

Since that hour the pleasant sea of 
success has rolled her upon its topmost 
waves, and she has become the craze of 
the hour among artists, society people, 
and the multitude of ordinary lovers of 
amusement. 

People drop into Koster &BiaPs just to 
see her whirl, while it has become the 
‘‘ fad ” among the fashionable set to 
make up a party and view her dancing 
from the private boxes. 

A writer in Kate Field’s Washington 
of April 30th, thus describes how it has 
become the “fad’’ to see Carmencita : 

“ Nothing but sheep ! I refer to people. 
What do you suppose New Yorkers have 
been flocking after for the last six weeks 
or more ? Carmencita ! What’s that ? A 
woman. What sort of a woman ? Span- 
i.sh^ born near Seville. What does she 


120 Life of Carmnicita. 

do ? Dance. Where? At Koster & Bial’s 
in Twenty-third street, nearS xtli avenue. 
When she first appeared in New York 
with Kiralfy last summer, this unique 
Andalusian was not appreciated. Artists 
and connoisseurs were out of town, and 
the great public did not know enough to. 
discover her for themselves. Then Car- 
mencita danced her way through the 
West, again without recognition. How- 
ever, it’s a long lane that has turning, 
and now the Spanish dance is turning 
people’s heads. It’s Mrs. Langtry’s case 
over again. When Mrs. Langtry first 
visited London, nobody looked at her. 
She was no prettier than anybody else. 
Later, she went up to town and met 
Frank Miles, the artist. He is the author 

of her being as a professional beauty. 

He invited people to meet her at his 
studio. Oscar Wilde went into heroics 
oyer her fine points ; the Prince of Wales, 


Life of Carmencita. 


121 


hearing all this fuss, asked for an intro- 
duction, and the lady’s fortune was made. 
That’s the way Carmencita has gained 
her clientele here. Artists discovered 
her, John Sargent extolled her grace, 
Carroll Beckwith invited a number of 
friends to his studio to see her dance at 
the Sherwood, and the ball began to roll. 
Everybody at Beckwith’s studio was so de- 
lighted — women no less than men — that 
Carmencita danced, and danced, and 
danced, and nobody went home until 
morning. “ If she can dance at Beck- 
with’s studio, why not in my drawing- 
room?’’ queried one fine lady, and lo ! 
the sound of Carmencita’s castinets was 
heard in swell houses. But everybody 
can’t afford to pay for so much luxury, 
and society whispered, “ Why not go to 
Koster & Bial’s ? There are rows of pri- 
vate boxes in the gallery. Let’s make up 
parties and go. ’’ Thus the “ fad ” started, 
and now it’s the thing to admit that 


122 


Life of Carnicncita, 


you’ve seen Carmencita, and you think 
she’s “ the most fascinating creature you 
ever laid your eyes upon.’’ 

Continuing, the same writer says: 

“ My introduction to Carmencita took 
place in Chase’s studio, 57 West Tenth 
street, where a party of ladies and gentle- 
men were invited to meet Carmencita, 
who arrived at 1 1 P. M., after her appear- 
ance at Koster and Bial’s. Mr. Chase’s 
studio is delightful in every respect, its 
size being just right for the occasion. 
Such curios, such everything, as he has ! 
Hut I must stick to Carmencita. An al- 
most square rough cloth, large enough for 
a pas seiil, was laid on the floor in front of 
a white canvass frame which served as a 
background. Four mandolin and guitar 
players, Spaniards, seated themselves on 
a sofa at the left of the frame, and then 
Carm.encita entered, in a Spanish costume 
that descended to the ankle. 

Carmencita’s smile and teeth won friends 


Lije of Caruu'ucila. 123 

at once. Then there’s a vim and an in- 
describable swagger — yes, that’s the word 
— to her tread, that surprise and interest. 
Finally, when inspired by the music, which 
begins as she enters, she undulates, and 
twists and turns, and rises and falls, and 
stands in every possible position except 
on her head, and does steps not laid down 
by ballet masters, and altogether sets 
ordinary art at defiance. You understand 
why artists clap their hands and cry 
‘Brava! Bravisima?’ and why John Sar- 
gent is painting her portrait. She's just 
the subject for his free and original brush 
and ought to inspire the best that is in 
him.” 

Carmencita undoubtedly has as many 
bones in her body as the rest of us; but so 
supple is she that she could give lessons 
to a kitten. Indeed, she’s a sort of human 
kitten. She dances because nature made 
her to dance. She’d invent steps and 
movements, if she had nobody for 


124 Carmcncita. 

audience ; she plays with j)oses as a kitten 
plays with a string. She is the embodi- 
ment, the passion, and occasionally the 
poetry of motion. 

The leading daily newspapers have also 
devoted much space to describing her ap- 
pearance, her life and her dancing, and 
even the magazines have most flatteringly 
noticed her, for the ‘^Cosmopolitan Maga. 
zine ’’ of January last, in an article 
entitled “Famous Beauties of America,” 
gave a most charming picture of her as 
she is seen in the dance, and after extolling 
the beauty of her face and form, thus en- 
thuses over her dance : 

“And she danced. No steps that mas- 
ters could teach her. No wiggling on 
iron toes down the length of the stage 
with coarse exposures. She wore modest 
skirts to her ankles ; she was slender as a 
reed^ and her slim feet, under whose in- 
steps water would flow, were cased in satin 
slippers, whose high heels clicked with her 


Life of Car)nencita. 125 

castanets. When the heart runs over with 
the first joy of love, soul and body yearn 
for wild motion, to- spread wings for the 
stars, to cry, to leap, to run ; and it was 
the ecstasy of life and movement that 
Carmencita danced. 

In an interesting interview with her, in- 
terpreted by the author, for the “ New 
York Herald,” printed in the Sunday 
edition of April 20th, the following ex- 
tract thus describes her character, appear- 
ance, and the revelations of her dance : 

“In her drawing room she seems but a 
child, a plain, simple girl, with direct and 
unaffected ways — a sort of Spanish Yan- 
kee. There is no nonsense about her. 
Many shop girls in New York would 
attract as mucli attention in the drawing 
room or in a public conveyance. But 
when she begins to sing, or dance, or take 
part in a pantomime, either in a drawing 
room or on the stage, she is a revelation 
— a creature of passion and fire — a tor- 


126 


Life of Carmencita. 


nado of wild, devastating poetry that 
carries everything before it. The remark- 
able feature of this psychological phe- 
nomenon is the secret power, ‘ magnetism, 
electricity, genius,’ or whatever it may be 
called, that enables her to transform her- 
self from a pretty little maiden into a tall, 
graceful woman — an undulating paragon 
of splendid beauty. She takes possession 
of managers, actors, auditors, doorkeepers, 
box office, and reigns .a queen for the 
time being. Her entire performance, in- 
cluding an encore or two, does not exceed 
five or ten minutes. But her Spanish 
genius gets in its fine work during those 
minutes, and the vision she leaves con- 
tinues to get mixed up with the brains, 
business and duty of a man for the next 
two weeks. How she does it no one 
knows. Hers is a gift of nature. It 
enables her to become the wonderful be- 
ing that dances the wild, gypsy measures 


Life of Carmencita, 127 

seldom seen outside the mountains of 
Andalusia.’' 

In the “ Sunday World ’’ of the same 
date Nell Nelson writes of her; 

“ In her quick, graceful and sinuous 
movements and ever-changing attitudes 
one loses sight of the technique of art and 
beholds a flexibility of body, an abandon 
of the physical that is perfectly astonish- 
ing. In the winding, quivering, snake- 
like motions when her lithe, little body 
bends, waves a»Hl furls one marvels at her 
endurance as well as grace.” 

An exceedingly well-written article in 
the Sun ” of Sunday, April 13th, raves 
of her in the following highly flattering 
manner : 

“ Her performance is made up of every 
quality the human body is capable of 
expressing: gracefulness, suppleness, 

strength, passion are all inbred in it with 
their fullest force, but all controlled by an 
individuality sufliciently striking to make 


128 


Life of Carmenciia, 


the spectator wonder occasionally whether 
he is fascinated with the dancer or the 
woman. She steps, or sways, or turns al- 
ways with infinite charm, and the animat- 
ing spirit is never lost to sight. The fires 
beneath show through every undulation of 
her body as clearly as in her blazing eyes. 
She is not hampered by the severe tra- 
ditions of the old queens of the ballet 
whom our grandfathers worshipped. She 
permits herself to reach such a fervor and 
rapidity of style that would doubtless 
have made Taglioni wave her hand in 
rejection, yet grace never fails her. But 
in her most impassioned moments it is a 
certain dash and splendor of movement 
and the fire of an extraordinary personal- 
ity that seizes upon the beholder’s mind 
and leaves him thrilled, shaken and mys- 
tified with the power of their effect.” 

‘‘ She is the incarnate harmony of form 
and motion. She is art personified, not 
the art of the teacher of the ballet, but 


Life of Carniencita, 129 

the art of nature. Sculptors and painters 
gather around the tables of the concert 
hall to study the attitudes and movements 
of this marvelous maiden of Almeria as 
they would sit in their studios to note the 
beautiful points of a splendid model. As 
for the 400,000, the great mass of seekers 
after light amusement, they go without 
thought of high art, or anything except 
that Carmencita pleases them with some- 
thing vivacious, unique and startling in its 
effect. They know they like her, even 
though they cannot explain their admira- 
tion according to the canons of artistic 
criticism.” 

It is usually a few minutes before ten 
o’clock when Carmencita comes out each 
night on Koster & Bial’s stage. Her act oc- 
curs in the middle of a burlesque play, and 
and the score of girls appearing in its roles 
stand on each side of the platform. They 
are clad in tights and flaming draperies of 
Athenian pattern and their presence is a 


t30 


Life of Carmencita, 


fair back-ground for the lively young 
S[)aniard, who suddenly fixes your whole 
attention by the entrancing salute that 
she always makes at her first flitting upon 
the stage. It is a flash from beaming eye, 
a smile woven upon delicately curved lips, 
a swan-like bending of the neck, a turn of 
the body, a poise superb with the grace 
of royalty. If the art of physical motion 
reaches any higher perfection than in her 
quiet and simple entrance, it has never 
been revealed in our eyes or perception. 
She descends the few steps at the back- 
ground and advances to the footlights 
with that superb pose, if we may call it 
so, and grace of movement that we can 
only attribute to some great master-piece 
of Phidias into whom there had been 
breathed the breath of fife. She is dressed 
in a long and spangled gown covering a 
profusion of white petticoats. Her skirts 
reach almost to her ankles and you see 
only a bit of lier stockings. Her shoes are 


Life of CarvLcncita. 131 

low, but their heels are like stilts. If you 
are seated a correct distance from the 
footlights the dancer seems like a brilliant, 
scintillating, elusive bird, fluttering with 
lightsome ease upon the stage. You see 
her wealth of jet black hair, her glorious 
eyes, whose dark depths well with liquid 
fire ; you see the undulations of her figure, 
the gay colors of her dress and its decora- 
tions as she poses there, a brilliant type 
of Spanish womanhood. But this is only 
for a moment ; she lingers as an orchid 
before it sways on the breeze, and then as 
the orchestra strikes into a slow, soft 
Spanish movement, she begins her dance. 
The verve^ fire, rapture of her action are 
untranslatable ; they cannot be painted 
with brush, nor told with pen. They 
thrill the artistic temperament, they sat- 
isfy the biases who long for something 
new, they bewilder those to whom only 
the ordinary ballet may be understood. 
The extraordinary flexibility of this beau- 


132 


Life of Carmencita, 


tiful creature’s body, which writhes and 
twists, furls and floats, like a silken scarf 
guided, shaken, and flung by a spirit full 
of joyous abandon, quickens the athlete 
with a feeling akin to triumph — here he 
beholds a control of the physical with a 
grace that astonishes/’ 

“ They call her a dancer, but she is more 
than that. She is a splendidly formed, 
supple-jointed child of nature, whose 
every position, every motion, is the grace 
of freedom, a girl to whose blood the 
grapes of her own Spain have given the 
passion of wine, a girl to whom action is 
delight. At the theatre where she now 
appears, she is before the footlights for 
five minutes, but if she had her own way 
she would dance before an appreciative 
house for half an hour. Some nights she 
is in a gloriously exalted mood, and then 
she insists upon ten minutes. She says it 
is for herself as well as her spectators.” 
“When she begins one of her dances, she 


Life of Car me licit a. 


133 


rises upon her legs and lifts one foot. But 
soon every part of her body is in motion, 
and you seem more captivated by the 
swaying of her torso and head than the 
motions of her legs. She writhes. and 
wriggles from toe-tips to the top of her 
black hair. She bends over until her hair 
almost touches her back ; she crouches, 
she springs ; she shakes off the whim of 
this set of movements and begins another, 
grasping the edges of her skirt and step- 
ping proudly this way and that, until with 
a quick dash she is off in a bewildering 
whirl, in which you catch only a glimpse 
of just a little more pink stocking, and 
just a little more white petticoat, and 
then, while you wonder what eccentric 
phase she will show next, the music stops 
and she bows and disappears.” 

The Johnnies’’ and the ^‘chappies’’ 
have not caught on with Carmencita, per- 
haps because she does not want them, per- 
haps because she does not talk English, but 


134 


Life of Carmcncita. 


some of them are beginning to earnestly 
turn their attention to learning Span- 
ish from a teacher, or purchasing a ‘ Span- 
ish Made Easy.’ 

But she has many gentlemen callers 
who are not made up of the sort who 
usually tag after the goddesses of the 
ballet. They are men who would not 
give a hg for an ordinary dancer, but do 
want to talk with this extraordinary 
Spanish maiden and are willing to pay 
for the favor. Some of them are artists’ 
friends with artistic longings. Often, too, 
there are rich fellows who have heard of 
the Carmencita craze, and are not satis- 
fied with the glimpses they obtain of her 
th rough their opera glasses from the 
boxes, but want to study her closer be- 
hind the scenes, and converse with her 
through an interpreter if they do not un- 
derstand Spanish, so as to know better ex- 
actly what kind of a girl she is of whom 
such extravagances have been uttered in 


Life of Carmciicita. 135 

club and cafe, and wherever men meet to 
talk. 

Nearly every moment of her time is oc- 
cupied, for after the evening performance 
at the theatre is over, she attends mid- 
night soirees and receptions at the studios 
of well known artists whose guests, be 
fore whom she is invited to dance, are 
made up from the crane de la creme of 
society. 

It is usually one o’clock in the morning 
when Carmencita, with some of her Span- 
ish friends as escorts, reaches her lodg- 
ings. She is up by ten o’clock, and at 
noon is at the studio of Sargent who is 
painting another picture of her. 

He has already finished one that is on 
exhibition at the Academy and occupies 
the place of honor there. 

One of the first pictures that came 
from the master hand of this famous ar- 
tist and won for him the sincere and lav- 
ish praises of the critics, was that of a 


136 Life of Carmencitd, 

Spanish maiden, and in painting the por- 
trait of Carmencita, he feels as if his first 
love had come back to him. 

After spending a few hours in Sargent’s 
studio, Carmencita is on her way to dance 
at the house of some society leader, and 
from there goes to the home of some of 
her private pupils among the fashionable 
set, who pay exorbitant prices for lessons 
to learn to imitate the graceful steps of 
the beautiful danseuse. 

All prudish barriers are swept aside 
during these lessons, and the stately 
apartments ring with merry peals of 
laughter at their feeble, and awkward 

o 

efforts to do as Carmencita does ; for al- 
though the well-known movements, such 
as the waltz and quadrille, are executed 
by them with some pretense to grace, 
their best attempts to dance the unique 
steps and throw their bodies into the start- 
ling but beautiful poses shown by their 


Life of Carmcncita. 


137 


teacher, are so clumsy as to provoke the 
greatest merriment. 

And when at last Carmencita leaves 
them, while they are wearied with their 
labored exertions, she is still as fresh 
and lively as if she had' not danced at all. 

For it is as natural for her to dance as 
for a fish to swim, and she declares that 
she ‘‘ never tires of it,” and it affords her 
a relaxation that nothing else does, and 
when she is not otherwise engaged, she is 
constantly inventing new steps or atti- 
tudes and sets of movements for her own 
amusement, as well as for that of her audi- 
ence. 

To show what a furore Carmencita has 
created among society women, and how 
she has become the most fashionable dissi- 
pation of the fashionable world with her 
dancing at receptions, in studios and her 
private lessons in this art, and with what 
a strong hold these terpsichorean achieve- 
ments of hers have taken the fancy of the 


138 Life of Carmencita, 

younger and more Bohemian elements of 
the beau inonde to get away from the hum- 
drum monotony of ordinary amusements, 
wo quote the following from the New 

York “ Truth ” of March 26th : 

# 

“ A youthful matron is said to have 
boasted the other day that no chandelier 
was safe in a room where she went through 
her daily exercise, and it is a well-known 
fact that during that weary half hour after 
dinner, when ladies are left to their own 
devices, matches have been made in high- 
jumping and extraordinary exhibitions of 
skill and ability displayed. Upon the en- 
trance of the men the contests cease — at 
least so the fair athletes say.” 

“ Skirt dancing seems to be as enjoy- 
able to the performer,” states the same 
paper, ‘‘as it is fascinating to the spectator, 
and it is probable enough that at the 
Patriarchs and assemblies next winter, 
certain fair and accomplished members of 
the fashionable world may yield involun- 


Life of Carmencita. 139 

tarily to the temptations of a heavy kick, 
a Lind swivel, or a Carmencita can-can, 
before the amazed eyes of the McAllister 
himself.” 

But,” says the Sun,” of Carmencita, 
whatever else may shock, Carmencita 
herself will not offend. She always wears 
long skirts, she is not a kicker, and in her 
dancing there is nothing of that coarse 
display to be seen in the ballet ; nothing 
of that vulgarity manifested by some skirt 
dancers, nothing of the cheap, flashy, inar- 
tistic action of the usual concert hall figur- 
ante.” 

“She is just such a danseuse as Delsarte, 
the apostle of physical culture, would have 
made. She is not yet twenty-two years 
old, and Spain’s hot blood . coursing 
through her sculptured form has given her 
an individuality of honest artistic merit, 
which makes it unnecessary for her to 
stoop to the sensual in order to gain ap- 
plause. She is not a dancer who wears 


140 Life of CarjJUHCiid. 

the forced smile and assumes the studied 
grace of the commonplace premiere since 
Elssler and Taglioni said farewell, but 
smile or no smile, the Spanish girl’s face 
is a picture to look at long, and her very 
walk is a splendid phase of pure motion. 
If Carmencita were to fall down stairs, slie 
would tumble with charming grace, and 
no two tumbles would be alike.’’ 

And so everywhere the beautiful Car- 
mencita is winning golden opinions from 
the press, from her own profession, and 
from countless scores of admirers, and is 
dancing her way into all hearts, and will 
continue to do so as long as strength is 
given her to flit before an audience, while 
the remembrance of her wondrous art 
will linger in the memory as does the 
sweet perfume of roses even when they 
bloom no more, and will never be erased 
from its tablets, if one is to judge from 
the following extracts also generously laid 


Life of Carmencita, 141 

at her shrine as offerings of commenda- 
tion by the press : 

Every movement displays the ardent 
passion of the sunny atmosphere of her 
native Spain, and she has become the 
greatest sensation of modern ballet.” 

“ One hand at her wrist and the other 
daintily holding her long skirt, she is a 
picture of sensuous beauty, the like of 
which has rarely, if ever, been seen on any 
stage, and one never to be erased from the 
tablets of memory.” 

It were worse than treason to imagine 
that these sinuous movements, so replete 
with a most wondrous grace, and made up 
from the Bolero dances of Spain, and the 
passion poses of Persia, together with the 
beautiful, unique, and startling steps in- 
vented by the divine danseuse herself, 
can ever fade from the popularity they 
are now enjoying.” 

An 1 art contributed its voluntary offer- 
ing to her genius in the words of a well- 


14 ^ Life of Carmcncita. 

known sculptor who said to her, Among 
other dancers now, you are like a pearl 
amid sand.” 

But this child-woman phenomenon, who 
had power to thrill the heart of even the 
pleasure satiated Parisian, and awaken 
the most blas(f man of the world from the 
feeling of ennui that has overtaken him, 
and would make even old King Solomon 
himself, we trow, if he was living now, 
revoke his declaration that all was van- 
ity, and there was nothing new under the 
sun,’’ remains as simple in her tastes and 
longings amid all this flattery she receives, 
that is enough to turn even older and 
wiser heads than hers, as a little child. 
Her one greatest desire is to earn 
money, that she may send it home to her 
people in Spain, and when her task is 
done of winning new triumphs and fresh 
laurels, to return to the warm, sunny land 

where she was born. 

The land of sunchine and of love, 

The land of music and of dreams, 


Life of Cannencita, 


143 


and under the burning splendor of its 
skies, accompanied by the musical play- 
ing of its fountains, the soft twangings of 
guitars and mandolins, and the click-clack 
rattling of castanets, dance solely for her 
own amusement and that of her own 
family, or perchance, for some stately 
dark-eyed caballero, who will devour her 
with his gaze from beneath his slouched 
sombrero, and thrill her heart as it has 
never been thrilled by the handsome, but 
calm, cold men of other countries, and 
win her promise to become his bride. 

Dancing is a favorite amusement with 
the whole Spanish nation ; young and old 
equally engage in it with enthusiasm. 
Besides the dances belonging to other 
countries, the Spaniards have three that 
are purely national, namely, the fanda7igo^ 
the bolero^ and the seguidilla, and to give 
an idea of their passion for these dances 
in some parts of the country, if a person 
were to come suddenly into a church, or 


144 


of Cannencita. 


a court of justice, playing the fandango 
or the bolero, priests, judges, lawyers, 
criminals, audience, one and all, grave and 
gay, young and old, would quit their 
functions, and commence dancing. 

And it is from this passionate danc- 
ing, loving race that Carmencita, the 
beautiful Spanish star, has risen on the 
terpsichorean horizon and reached its ze- 
nith, and as some glorious planet that 

I'rails its burning splendor ’thwart the darkness of 
the sky, 

and dazzles the beholder, and causes les- 
ser stars to fade into insignificance be- 
side it, so she among all other dancers 
shines preeminent. 

And in closing this brief biography of 
her we can express no better wish for her 
than that she will continue to shine for 
many future years to come, and that the 
American stage will long and often be 
brightened by her glorious presence so 
full of magnetism, grace and beauty. 









I 



•I > 





> 


'■ ; 

•■ //I 

« _ . 


«i ., V- , 1 

; ' j .■ 


:v' 

i 



/ 



t 



'y 


f . 






. I 


f 


r. 



• — 'I 

' • * > 

. \' 


T 


I 


k 



V 


> 





■f 





i. 


. I . 


r ' 



• I'i 








The Pearl of Seville. 


PRICE, 


50 CENTS. 


CARMENCITA 




-Jo 






Xos. 


JAMES RAMIREZ & CO., 

220 & 222 William Street, Xew Vork. 















1 




\ 


* . 


\ 

•; f ^ 

; ^ ■» 






V 7 

» 


V 





wMwmmi 




MW 






:v;-x-;«;' 

-/^f4.' 


WmmM 


f^.i’ ■^'U\ 


Wiiiiiiliwi 

*■■■1 

^■iil 








S5S 


s 




^Z'z-<^' 






o m $ 


v^. z^iM. • 


* <!/ ^ • 
A y* 


A" 'Cc 


*3'' , 


^ o 






V 


o 


'r * V, 


C°\‘ 


u » • 


M. o. 

I?" ^ 


4 O . 


o, .0 


» • • ,0^ * ^ • « 


V’ ** 


• « 


« 




\r\ 

c, O' 

A^ v/'. ® 


'o . . * ^ ^ 

A' , .0 " • , tj* 


J'® V 




n.V ^ 

0 ^ ' » , 1 

• ^ * "* > v' ♦ ‘Jk* ' 

” *•' '^-t. A^ » " 




. . « ‘ , 0 ’ 


‘ A^*%. '- 


o « * 


|^> X» •* 


0^ 




c>. ‘.Vo’ ,0 



aO <> . , , • 

.0^ ,»•<),’> »s • • » 

'f'v '^N/A\ 




' 

V 'C* . 0 ^ C> 'O . * '» 

-Jv^ 0 ^ ••■'•♦ *^o ^ 

♦ -C^v^vTv ^ n^T^ -9 k') ,"r> 



-ov^' : 


V 

i» ▼•s. 







■ \/ •• 


% ,6^ 







• ''<tn 






< 


DOBBS BROS. 


oWAf 

L V; » # •« • 




ST. AUGUSTINE .. 

FLA.^ A 

LU^LIX 


32084 <p vT* 


, 0 ^ ^o, 

C *'<K’/r?P:^% o d-o 

- '^OV^ 

o \0 * 7 % 

‘ ^ ^ 

'■'o 0^ ^ 

Afj. ® ® 

V^_ 

m, 



_ ^ ' 0 ^ ‘’..WMW* 





